


This Is the Story of a Boy, Part IV: What If This Is Just the Beginning

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [12]
Category: Glee
Genre: Brothership, M/M, Pre-Slash, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 104,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songs, texting, walks, meals, secrets: convincing</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [playlist for this part](http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLB343AC3AB51C2571)
> 
>  
> 
> (all chapters)

Two weeks pass after the day that Puck privately refers to as "I made Kurt Hummel drive crazy." It's not quite as good as "I drove Kurt Hummel crazy," but at least it's sort of similar. In Puck's head. The way Puck looks at it, he's pretty lucky. His best friend is miraculously cool with Puck's new revelation (thanks, Puck is sure, in no small part to Kurt), and since his mom and Hannah know _and_ most of the Hudmels know, he's got two places that he feels safe. Like he can let his guard down.

One more year.

When he heads over to the Hudmel household on Tuesday, Finn's running late, and Kurt's doing something involving dough in the kitchen. "What're you making?"

"Pizza. It tastes better if you make the dough yourself."

"Yeah? Cool."

"Are you working tomorrow?"

Puck shakes his head. "Nah, not tomorrow. Thought I'd sleep in. You know, until at least 7 or 8." He fakes a yawn to emphasize his point.

"Want to take a road trip with me?" Kurt makes a face. "Dad needs a part, it's up in Detroit, and sending me to get it is apparently cheaper and faster than shipping it."

"Okay. Can we leave at like, 9 or something."

"9:30, and I'll bring doughnuts."

"Awesome."

Finn swings into the kitchen then. "What's awesome?"

"Doughnuts."

"Yeah, doughnuts are awesome." He looks around the kitchen and frowns.

"Not that we have any right now, Finn," Kurt says patiently.

"Oh. Damn." He flashes a smile at both of them anyway. "What're you making?"

"Pizza dough."

Finn's eyes light up. "Awesome. Dude," he addresses Puck, "you gotta stay for dinner, homemade pizza's the best ever."

"Okay," Puck shrugs, and lets Finn tug him towards the living room. "Just no olives."

"No problem," Kurt responds smoothly, wiping his hands. "I don't like olives on my pizza either."

"Yeah, so none of us get them," Finn mock-complains from the floor, his back leaning against the couch.

"Whatever, like I care." Puck pushes Finn to the side slightly before dropping down beside him.

"You want to play, Kurt?"

"Not now," Kurt says. "I have to figure out if the Automotive Hall of Fame is open tomorrow."

 

Carole ends up suggesting that Puck just stay the night, and Finn offers to give him a ride home to grab a bag. Puck isn't sure that this is the best idea ever, but it does sound easier and more than a little tempting, so he agrees. He pulls Mrs. H aside and tells her that she can tell Mr. H about him if she thinks he ought to know. He doesn't want to get on Mr. H's bad side, for so many reasons.

She just nods and says she'll take care of it, and when they get back, Burt just nods and says "Puckerman, you can sleep on the fold-out couch down here." Burt fixes him with a long look before going upstairs, and Puck's sufficiently cowed that he doesn't even consider trying to go up the stairs for so much as a toothbrush.

Which he had forgotten.

He wakes up a little after seven, and tries to go back to sleep, but instead lies there, realizing that he's got to finish the story with Kurt, and Kurt's inadvertently handed him the perfect opportunity.

Shit.

 

Kurt heads upstairs with his brow furrowed a little, slipping into the bathroom just ahead of Finn with a smirk. When he emerges, he heads to his bedroom and sits down in front of the computer to look at the map once more.

After a few minutes, Finn raps on Kurt’s door frame. Kurt looks up and smiles briefly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Finn grins and comes into the room, flumping unceremoniously onto Kurt’s bed. “So, it’s weird.”

Kurt just blinks. “What’s weird?”

“This thing with Puck,” Finn says. “It’s just weird.”

“I’m sorry that the queers are taking over,” Kurt says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“What are _you_ talking about?”

“Puck,” Finn explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Your dad is making him sleep on the fold-out downstairs. It’s just so weird.”

Kurt sighs. “That would be... my fault, I suppose.”

“You wanted him to sleep downstairs? That’s weird, too. I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t slept over here about a hundred times. I don’t see why anything has changed.” Finn makes a face. It’s probably his thinking face, but it’s also a little bit of a sad face, too.

“Nooo. Not that.” Kurt purses his lips. “Back in March, after that ill-fated party at Rachel’s, do you remember what we did with the oh-so-inebriated Blaine?”

“Yeah, we dumped him in your bed,” Finn says. “You were worried he was going to wander off if we left him on the sofa and I didn’t want him to puke on the recliner.”

“Yes, well. The next morning, Dad found him there. Dad... was quite unhappy.”

“But you guys weren’t even dating then.”

“But he was gay.” Kurt shrugs. “It was deemed inappropriate.”

“Your dad’s pretty cool, but...” Finn pulls a face. “That’s sorta. Yeah.”

“Yes,” Kurt agrees, still frowning. “Afterwards, Dad had me promise that I wouldn’t have any more sleepovers with any guys that might be gay. So I assume Puck either told Dad, or your mom did.”

“Puck never sleeps in here, though,” Finn says, looking confused. “He sleeps on the floor in my room. He’s been doing that since we all moved in here and he hasn’t made a pass at either of us yet. It’s not like he suddenly stopped being Puck and turned into one of those guys from Cops.”

“I don’t know,” Kurt sighs. “All I know is that it’s inappropriate to have another guy in my room if he might be gay, according to my dad.” His jaw tightens a little. “When... Brittany?” He quirks an eyebrow to see if Finn understands what he means. Finn nods. “He said, ‘you kids have fun and be safe.’”

“That’s...no offense to Burt or anything, but that’s kind of douchey, dude.” Finn looks pissed. “I know he does a pretty good job of being supportive and everything, most of the time, but sometimes...”

“No, I know.” Kurt sighs, a little sadly. Because his father is still a blue-collar guy from rural Ohio, no matter hard he tries for Kurt’s sake. It’s still _trying_. It’s not automatic.

“Anyway, I’m still confused. Puck doesn’t even go in your room much. He definitely doesn’t sleep in here, like, _ever_. Is there anything else or is it just...dumbassery?” Finn looks like he’s really trying to figure this out, but he’s coming up short no matter how he tries to figure it.

Kurt shrugs. “As far as I know, it’s just the latter.”

“Well, that blows, dude.” Finn blushes. “Um. No pun intended or anything.’

“Oh, _lord_ , Finn,” Kurt groans and shakes his head.

Finn grins, a little abashed. “Sorry. Sometimes I just can’t control the stuff that comes out of my mouth. It’s just, I know I shouldn’t say it, but it’s right there, and the next thing I know, bam.”

“It’s called a brain-to-mouth filter, brother dearest,” Kurt says dryly.

“I don’t think I have that,” Finn muses. “I think I’m filterless.”

Kurt laughs. “I don’t know anyone that would disagree.”

 

As promised, they don't leave until 9:30, and they stop ten minutes later for a dozen doughnuts. They fight over the last fudge-iced doughnut, each of them drinking a large cup of coffee. For thirty minutes, at least, Puck forgets that he wanted to finish talking to Kurt.

Telling Kurt sounds a lot harder than just enjoying their time together. He could just pretend in his mind that it's a date, the way he's been doing, subconsciously and then consciously, since April. It sounds easy in the moment, as it always does. Puck's going to hate himself if he doesn't say something, though. It's a perfect opportunity. And what if Puck experiences some good luck?

Deep breaths. He keeps repeating that he'll hate himself that night, tomorrow, if he doesn't gather up his courage and say things that he doesn't quite have words for.

Puck actually laughs for a split second when it occurs to him that the solution, were it not summer, would be to sing about it during glee club.

"What's funny?"

"Oh, uh. Remember I said I had another part of the story to tell you? And I was thinking that if it weren't summer, I could just, you know. Sing about it."

Kurt laughs, too. "Mr. Schue would be proud of your initiative. As long as you didn't want to sing it during a competition," he adds, making a slight face.

Puck nods, rolling his eyes in agreement. "Do you think it's the height difference between the two of them?"

Chuckles escape Kurt's mouth. "With Schue, who really knows?" He shrugs and glances at Puck briefly. "You want to talk?"

"Yes. And no." Puck grimaces but manages to turn into a small smile. "It's just. Scary? This part I didn't tell anyone else."

"Oh." Kurt sounds a little surprised, but Puck also recognizes the pleased note in that one word, too. Puck fights the urge to smile fondly, and he's pretty sure it would be one of those sappy, fond smiles, like Finn gets when he sees Rachel, or like Mike and Tina share. "And here I was hoping _I_ was suddenly scary," Kurt says mischievously.

"You're always scary," Puck spits out quickly. "Really. Very, very scary."

"Thanks," Kurt responds wryly. "Now stop distracting yourself. Or pick a song and sing it _a cappella_."

Puck snorts, then starts talking. "When I realized, when I put all the pieces together, I started doing a lot of things." The words pour out of him, and he's both unwilling and unable to damn them up. "I watched that show, _Queer as Folk_ , which was really awesome, even though I didn't really like Brian as much as all the stuff I read online said I would." Puck sees Kurt smiling slightly, but he doesn't interrupt, so Puck keeps talking. "And I read things, and well. I've got a good imagination, so it was easy to confirm, I guess, that I was gay." Puck pauses to snort. "Undeniably so. And it was incredibly hot. I kept the door closed because of what I was watching but also, well. It's just that… it wasn't enough, I liked watching Ben and Michael, too, because they were so solid, a unit, and that was kind of different for me. To want _that_." He stops to take a breath and a drink of his cooling coffee, and sees Kurt just nod once. "And it wasn't too big a leap from there to figure out exactly what I wanted. A picture in my head. I sort of lied earlier, that wasn't the first time I thought about just finding a song. Would you believe someone actually wrote a perfect one? I'd never heard of them, they're from Ireland or something, but it was just perfect, and I listened to it about forty times. And by then." Puck stops and leans forward in his seat, hands running over his face.

"I knew what I wanted. Exactly what I wanted. But I also knew _who_."

"So you do like someone."

"No. I mean, yes, but that seems… trivial. I know what I want, and I know who, and it's not going to change." Puck smiles a little sadly. "I may be eighteen, but sometimes I feel like I've lived forty years already. I'm done playing around, Kurt. I'm done. I know who I want, and that's it. Finite."

Kurt furrows his brow. "But–and I don't mean to be discouraging, Puck, you know that–but what if he doesn't want the same things? It's not highly likely at this age."

"Then it's my job to convince y-him." Puck winces at the slip, but Kurt doesn't seem to notice it.

"Yes, I guess I can see that," Kurt responds, a hint of laughter in his voice. "You would see that as your job."

"It's not a bad one," Puck counters, and Kurt nods his acknowledgment.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt," Kurt says all of the sudden, tone more business-like. "The welcome center is just up here, do you want to stop?"

Puck nods. Yeah, because he wants to see Kurt's face if he's going to do this. Or at least not cause a wreck. "Yeah, sounds good. Maybe grab a snack."

Kurt nods and Puck falls silent as they approach the welcome center and then park. They walk in amicable silence towards the restrooms, then the vending machines.

"So," Kurt finally speaks again as they sit down at one of the picnic tables, two sodas, three bags of chips, and four candy bars between them. "Who is he? Do I know him?"

Puck nods, and swallows, then looks away, suddenly fascinated by the bird pecking at the ground near the picnic table.

"Okay," Kurt says softly after a long moment, and reaches across the table very briefly, squeezing Puck's hand. Puck fights the urge to close his eyes as the feel of Kurt's touch flashes throughout him.

"Before we get home," Puck manages. "Today."

"Okay," Kurt repeats, and they finish their snack, Puck pausing periodically to throw the bird crumbs.

 

Picking up the part takes less than ten minutes, in the end, and Kurt frowns slightly as they go through the drive-thru for lunch. "Automotive Hall of Fame and the Motown Museum are both open until 5 or 6. Want to go to either or both?"

"Yeah, let's. Which one closes first?"

"Automotive Hall of Fame."

"Need me to navigate?"

"Please."

As they make their way to the museum, Kurt purses his lips, taking in the landscape, and finally sighs. "I thought Ohio was bad, but I am so glad I do not live in Detroit."

"Yeah." Puck winces. "I knew the economy was bad, but this… this is something else."

They spend a couple of hours at the Automotive Hall of Fame before deciding to head towards the Motown Museum, and the twenty minutes between the two passes quickly, Puck proud that they haven't gotten lost yet.

The Motown Museum ends up being even more interesting than Puck thought it would be, and they're at the end of the exhibits when they sit down halfway through one of those five minute looping videos. When it comes back to the part where they started, Kurt doesn't make a move to get up, and somehow, Puck finds his voice. Even though no one else is around, he still speaks softly. "You."

"What?" Kurt whispers, still focusing on the screen.

"You. It's you." Puck determinedly stares at the screen as well, fighting the urge to clench his hands into tight fists.

He can sense Kurt stiffen slightly, and he closes his eyes briefly. At least there wasn't any laughing or yelling. Yet.

Then Kurt grabs his hand, tugging him up and out, Puck thankful that they managed to get through the museum before he had his confessional moment. Kurt's hand tightens around his as they proceed quickly out the exit and towards a bench, and Puck just wants to know what it _means_. The bench is hot from the sun, but Kurt perches on it determinedly, pulling Puck down beside him.

"You don't want me," Kurt says, a little bit of surprise and a bit of sadness both coloring his voice, and Puck thinks– _hopes_ –that he understands what Kurt isn't saying. "Maybe you think you do," Kurt continues, voice still a little pained. "Your selection of available partners is limited, after all."

Puck's shaking his head, and he can't decide whether to answer Kurt's spoken or unspoken objections first. He is carefully still, because Kurt hasn't let go of Puck's hand. He's probably forgotten, but Puck's not going to complain. "First, I didn't… I didn't think of you and then realize all the reasons it was you. I was thinking of what I wanted, and then it hit me that I didn't have to go look for it. You were right in front of me."

"Still…" and the pained tone is still present, but a little stronger.

"And why _wouldn't_ I? Why not?" Puck's voice is a little rougher, a little challenging.

"We're so different," Kurt says, his voice a little higher in his distress. "I'll get on your nerves. I'm high-maintenance and I know I can be annoying. You like sex, I'm not sexy--"

"Whoa. Hold on." Puck's hands move, unbidden, and he keeps the one wrapped around Kurt's hand tight. "You're _what_? Seriously? You really think that?" He probably sounds angry, but then, he kind of is. He's angry that someone or something made Kurt think he wasn't sexy.

Kurt looks over at him, then, eyes wide, and he nods, then shakes his head, confused. "I'm not, Blaine said so, David only kissed me because he was so mixed-up and angry, and–"

"Okay, we're going to come back and talk about that second one some day," Puck growls out, because he's not really okay with the mental image he has now. "And Blaine, I think we've previously established, was a fucking _douchebag_. Why would you take anything he said seriously?" Puck's staring straight into Kurt's eyes now, and he'd probably find their conversation awkward and scary, both, if he wasn't so angry. "I mean it, Kurt. You're unbelievably sexy." He controls himself enough to smirk. "Really, I'd be happy to convince you."

"Oh, stop," Kurt lowers his eyes but smiles a bit, and Puck knows the topic of conversation isn't closed, but it's no longer at a crisis level. He squeezes Kurt's hand again, and this time, he gets an answering squeeze.

"What's the real reason?" Puck dares to ask, because there wasn't any laughing or yelling, and in Puck's head, that means he still has a chance.

Kurt shrugs, and still won't look at Puck. His reply is so soft that Puck almost does hear it. "Scary."

"Me?"

There's a shake of his head. "No. What you say you want, what you're offering."

"How so?"

"Because it's _everything_. And we _are_ different. It wouldn't be perfect, no matter what you've thought through."

"No, it wouldn't be." Puck smiles a little. "It'd be better. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because it won't be perfect. Like this year, it's going to be hell at school part of time. Sometimes you're going to wish I was out, and sometimes _I'm_ going to wish I was out, but other times we'll be just fine with it until we can leave. Sometime during college, one of us is going to wonder if we picked our one person too soon. I'm still going to dress like me, and you're still going to dress like you, and when we're twenty-five, I'm going to ruin some of your clothes in the laundry, despite you telling me for years what to do. Sometimes we're going to fight, and we might say awful things. But at the end of it, at the end of it all, we're going to have really awesome make-up sex, and we'll still be together. And the good times are going to be so good, and they'll be better because of the not-so-good times, and they're going to outnumber the bad times." Puck says it all in a rush, and he knows that if Finn and Kurt ever compare notes, his secret rom-com viewing habit will no longer be a secret.

"Oh," Kurt says, quiet, but there's a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Let me convince you," Puck finally continues. "I said that would have to be my job, so let me do my job. Just… don't flirt with anyone else or see anyone else, because…"

"It'd piss you off?" Kurt finishes the sentence.

"No," Puck shakes his head. "I mean, yeah, I'd act pissed, but really I'd just be… hurt. You know."

Now it's Kurt squeezing Puck's hand, and it brings a smile to Puck's face. "Okay," Kurt says after a few moments of silence. "Convince me, Noah Puckerman."

"Mission accepted. And before I attempt any other convincing, I think I should convince you that it's time to drive back to Lima."

"Oh, shit!" Kurt checks the time on his phone and stands up. "You're right. What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?"

"Six," Puck admits with a wince. It's closer to seven than six-thirty, and it'll take three hours by the time they go through rush hour traffic and eat some dinner, even if they grab more drive-through cuisine.

"I am so sorry," Kurt apologizes as they reach the Navigator. "Seriously. I'd say I'd bring you a coffee tomorrow, but well. That'd be a little ridiculous."

Puck laughs. "Just a little bit, Kurt. Just a little bit."

 

When Puck gets home, it's almost 10:30, and he barely says hello to his mom before heading to bed. He pokes his head inside Hannah's room, but she's asleep, as she should be, and Puck can't help but envy her a little. He lied to Kurt; the store opens at 6, but he really needs to be there at 5:30 since he's the only one opening. That means waking up at 5 am.

He takes the time to find a good YouTube version of "Pictures in My Head," anyway, and readies a text for Kurt that he'll send sometime in the morning. Self-appointed task complete, Puck falls into bed, a little more hopeful than he was the last time he slept in his bed.

 

Five am is just as painful as Puck had imagined it, but he reminds himself that he can have a huge cup of coffee, free, in less than hour, so he gets dressed and walks the fifteen minutes to work. He waves at the officer who sits in the Rite Aid lot, remembers to drop off his sister's library books, and unlocks the door of the Starbucks right at 5:30. It's easy to go through his routine, because he's been doing it for so long now, and by the time the first bleary-eyed medical professional stumbles in, Puck's downed a venti cup himself, spiked with a shot of espresso. He remembers to send the text to Kurt when there's a lull just before 7:45, and then it's close to ten before he can take a break.

He's only been back at the counter for a few minutes, and business is still slow, when a familiar figure slips in the door. Puck finishes the drink he's fixing, hands it to the older woman waiting, and leans across the counter. "What can I get _you_?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." Kurt smiles in return. "First," and Kurt slides a bag across the counter. "It's not coffee, but it is a little bit of an apology."

"You didn't–"

"I know, I wanted to," Kurt counters before Puck can finish talking, and Puck just accepts the bag and stows it under the counter before gesturing to Kurt to continue. "And you know what I want to drink."

"Of course. And I may have saved you the last two of these." Puck reaches into the pastry display and pulls a plate from under the bottom shelf, two little red velvet whoopie pies perched on it.

"May have?"

"I could always eat them myself."

"No, mine!" Kurt asserts, and pulls the plate close. "Oh, here," he remembers the bills crumpled in his hand. "Put the change in your little tip-bucket. Since you saved me whoopie pies."

"The way to a man's heart really is through his stomach," Puck counters wryly as he finishes ringing up the total, and then moves to the side to start on Kurt's drink.

"I like the song," Kurt says after a moment, as Puck works.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm. I think it'd sound better with an acoustic guitar inside of the heavy synth, but I like the tune. And the lyrics."

"I think so too," Puck agrees, expertly topping Kurt's coffee with whipped cream. "I've been working on it, but I can't quite get the bridge how I want it. One super-sugary coffee drink, lid on the side," he announces with a flourish, and Kurt laughs, scooping the whipped cream off the top with his finger before putting the lid on.

"Thank you, kind sir," he adds, bowing his head ever so slightly.

 

When it's Puck's turn for lunch, he reaches for the bag Kurt brought him and pulls out the glass container. Ohh. Leftover veggie lasagna. Puck's not sure how leftover lasagna survived in the Hudmel household, though he suspects that Finn and Burt both heard "vegetable" and thought "healthy." Puck knows better, though; there's enough cheese in Kurt's lasagna to clog anyone's arteries. He sticks it in the microwave and taps his fork impatiently on the counter.

"What is that smell? I want your lunch!" One of Puck's coworkers stops and eyes the microwave a little too interestedly, at least in Puck's mind.

"No! Mine!" Puck raises his eyebrows, pretending to slap at her hands with the fork. "And it's homemade lasagna."

"Damn," she smiles. "Someone loves you." She walks off then, helping a customer just as the microwave beeps. Puck pulls out his lasagna a little numbly, and walks to one of the outside tables to eat.

No, Kurt doesn't love him, not the way he _wants_ to be loved, not yet. Or not consciously, which an intriguing possibility. Because Puck knows Kurt well enough to know that there isn't anyone else in the city getting lunch hand-delivered by Kurt, except Kurt's dad. Not Finn, not Mercedes or Rachel, and not even Blaine back when Kurt was still with him.

Yet Kurt brought him lunch. And no, it's not far from his house--nothing is far from anything, really, in Lima--but Puck's pretty sure that Thursday mornings are when Kurt's working on his bizarre musical about that British girl Pippa. Not for running errands. Not for bringing lunch to Starbucks baristas.

Puck furrows his brow. Come to think of it, when did the Hudmels even have lasagna recently?

 

Kurt and Puck fall into their usual routine on Thursday afternoon, Finn and Puck playing video games while Kurt does other things. Puck heads home for dinner, because he's gotten three texts from Hannah telling him that he's required (by her) to eat dinner with them that night, since he missed dinner the past two nights. Puck hangs out with Finn and Sam on Friday night, and when he wakes up Saturday morning, he can't decide what to do. Usually he works for a few hours on Saturday, but he swapped with one of the new people, who drew Sunday, and she wants to go to church or something. It's only 7 am, though, and he curses his body's ability to adapt to early wake up calls. He shrugs and takes a shower anyway. He pauses while getting dressed and knocks on his mom's door.

"Hey, Mom," he calls softly at her answering grunt. "Want me to take Hannah to temple today? You sleep in?"

"Thanks," comes the answering call a moment later. "You can take the car. Straight there and straight back," she admonishes, and Puck sighs but agrees, knowing that he probably deserves it.

Puck pours cereal for both of them and gets Hannah ready. His mom tries to take her most weeks, and his nana will take Hannah other times, but it's rare that Puck goes. Sometimes it's intentional, but lately it's just been his work schedule.

He breaks his promise to his mom and heads over to Ray's to get a rotisserie chicken for lunch, but he figures she won't mind too much. When he gets back home, his mother is holding up his phone, frowning. "You forgot something."

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't think we took that long at the store." And they hadn't--just ten or fifteen minutes to get the chicken and a few other things.

"No, but I think you have about ten missed text messages."

"Oh." Puck grabs it and puts up the groceries one-handed as he reads through them. Two are from Finn, asking a question about Rachel; Puck snorts, because he just saw Rachel this morning at temple with her dads. There's another from Brittany, something about her cat having a crush on a dog that lives in Puck's building. The last three are from Kurt, and he stops putting up the groceries to focus on those three fully. The first one is just a good morning, what are you doing kind of text, and the next one is about thirty minutes later. _Oh, I bet you're at Temple. Sorry!_ The last one is from just fifteen minutes before. _Want to hit the beach? It's already super-hot._

Puck nods unconsciously and responds almost immediately. _Beach sounds great. Just starting lunch. Pick me up in an hour?_

The phone buzzes almost immediately and the swiftness of the reply makes Puck smiled. _Sure. See you then!_

Hannah disappears onto her room, talking on the phone, as soon as they finish eating, and Puck's mom retreats into hers as well, telling Puck something about a great new book and thanks for grabbing it at the library. All of this means that no one is watching Puck being ridiculous as he looks out the window, watching for Kurt. Kurt pulls up almost exactly an hour from the time of Puck's text, and Puck takes the opportunity to just watch Kurt. He steps out of the Navigator as if he's stepping onto a red carpet, head held high, sunglasses perched his nose. He's wearing swim trunks, flip flops, and a t-shirt, and Puck's not ashamed that he's drinking in the chance to look at Kurt's bare legs and feet. Usually Kurt's wearing long pants, even in the summer, or if he wears shorts, they're longer than these swim trunks, and he's still got on crazy boots.

There's another part of Puck, of course, that sort of hates that _anyone_ can see Kurt's legs and feet right now, but he consoles himself with the thought that very few, if any, of the people near Kurt would be young and gay.

Kurt disappears into the entrance of the building, and Puck grabs his towel off the bed, shouting out a farewell to his sister, then stopping to talk to his mother for just a minute. They finish talking just as Kurt knocks. "Bye, Mom."

"Have fun, Noah."

Puck swings the door open and pulls it shut behind him, stepping into the hallway. "Hey."

"Hey," Kurt smiles his response. "I guess you're ready."

Puck shrugs. "It's hot." He lets his eyes graze over Kurt for just a moment and smirks, letting it hang between them rather than saying it out loud.

"Stop it," Kurt rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, and they spend the short drive over to the "beach" laughing at the podcast Kurt found: a bunch of different words for "hot," all put into song format. They spend the rest of the afternoon alternating between the water and lying on their towels, and finish the day with the Deluxe Saturday Night Buffet at Old Barn Out Back. Puck's not sure if he's doing a good job of convincing Kurt or not. So far, he feels like they're just doing the same things they've done all summer, but then, that's what got him falling in love with Kurt, so it can't be an awful idea.

That, and he pays for dinner.


	2. Day by Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A talk between brothers. Sunday summer night in Lima, what is there to do?

Kurt's putzing around the kitchen, eyeing the contents of the refrigerator with some disdain before pulling out the leftover Chinese food. How it had survived for more than 24 hours in their house, he's not sure. Finn must've been gone for most of the 24 hours. Kurt opens two of the containers before deciding on the shrimp fried rice, and pads over to the microwave to heat it up. It's a little unconventional for breakfast, but what almost no one else knows won't hurt anyone.

"Chinese for breakfast?" Finn appears in the doorway. In the doorway as in he takes up almost the entire doorway. "My favorite. It's better cold, though."

"I don't like cold shrimp," Kurt admits, wrinkling his nose a little. "There's still some kung pao chicken in there, if you want it."

"Score! I kinda ate breakfast already, but I can always go for another one." He grabs the carton from the fridge and a fork from the drawer, and true to his word, starts eating it cold right out of the container.

"My brother, the hobbit," Kurt says dryly just as the microwave beeps and he grabs his own container. "Doing anything today?"

"Rachel has her jazz dance class this afternoon, so I was just planning on kicking around here all day. You got any plans?"

Kurt quirks his mouth upwards briefly at the mention of Rachel and her class, but shakes his head. "No, I thought I should enjoy one of the last free days we'll have for a few months."

Finn grins. "So, video games or movies?"

"Yes," Kurt says after a few moments, swallowing the last of his rice. "I pick the games, you pick the movies."

"Sounds fair to me. You ever see any of the _Saw_ movies?"

Kurt shakes his head, standing up to dispose of his trash. "Gory horror, right?"

"Dude, you know I'm messing with you, right?"

Kurt ducks his head into the refrigerator for a drink and takes advantage of having his face hidden to give Finn a hard time. "You didn't think I'd really make you play Disney Princess Magical Jewels?" he asks, barely keeping the laugh out of his voice. He'd cracked up when Puck'd bought the game for his sister's birthday.

"I think it's a possibility."

"Please, it'd at least be Style Savvy." He pulls his head out of the refrigerator at last, unable to hold back his laughter.

"Anyway," Finn says, in lieu of actually acknowledging Kurt, "I was thinking about rewatching _Baseketball_ or maybe finally seeing _Easy A_. I'm kinda in the mood for some comedy."

" _Easy A_ looks funny," Kurt agrees with a nod. "And I was thinking about Midnight Club. Or R.U.S.E."

" _Easy A_ and Midnight Club sounds like a perfect Sunday combination to me," Finn says around a mouthful of Kung Pao chicken.

Kurt nods his agreement, and steps towards the doorway, leaning against it, half in the kitchen half in the living room. "Game first?"

"Yeah. You'll need a nice relaxing movie after I hand you your ass in Midnight Club."

"Dream on," Kurt counters. "I know you erased our last match because you were afraid someone else would see the scores." Kurt smirks evilly; he might've asked Rachel to be sure and text Finn repeatedly for an hour or two.

"I told you," Finn protests. "I was on an antihistamine. Doesn't count. And Rachel was totally distracting me with all those texts about how she should wear her hair for her audition for the community college production of _Oklahoma_."

"Well, if you're neither high nor horny today..." Kurt raises an eyebrow and gestures towards the console. "What will your excuse be?"

"Aw, dude," Finn cringes. "Don't say 'horny.' Seriously. Weirds me out."

"Oh, that's what it'll be." Kurt sits down on the couch and flips on the television. "Hypothetical question."

"I hate those questions. I never get the answer right."

"No right answer," Kurt responds as they flip on the game. "Just a what-would-you-do."

Finn shrugs and picks up his controller.

"If someone came to you," Kurt begins, choosing his words carefully, "and offered you... not exactly something you'd been dreaming of, but something really close. It would be just one area of your life, but it wouldn't necessarily mean your other dreams wouldn't come true. Just parallel to them, I guess. Do you take the chance? Do you grab it, even though it's scary as hell, and it could still all come crashing down around you?"

"Um...we're not still talking about the video game, right?"

Kurt stifles a laugh. "No, not the video game. Life. Everything." He shrugs a bit.

Finn squishes his eyebrows together into the expression Kurt knows indicates deep thought. "Well, when we were in New York for Nationals, Rachel walked away from what was like the best date ever, even though she had been trying to get back together with me for months, for just the hope of having her dreams come true one day. I mean, I'm really glad she changed her mind about me not fitting in with that dream for the next year or so, obviously, but...yeah. I kinda understand why she'd be willing to do that. I mean, none of my dreams are so big that there's not room for other people in them."

Kurt purses his lips briefly. "You're making me feel sort of cowardly, here." He traces a random pattern in the arm of the couch. "It wouldn't preclude any other dreams. I don't think. It's just. Frankly, it scares me. Someone offering me something that good, on a platinum platter? Me?"

"Why not you, man? And seriously, a coward? You're like the bravest guy I know. Coming back to McKinley after all the crap they put you through last year? I couldn't have done it." Finn claps Kurt on the shoulder, maybe a little harder than necessary, in his attempt to drive his point home.

"Thanks," Kurt acknowledges quietly. "I always thought I'd be able to do it. You know." He stops and sings the line. "It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes, and leap."

Finn squints his eyes at Kurt, curious and strangely...smug. "Did something happen?"

"Yes. No. Nothing except talking. It's a good thing, don't look like that!" Kurt starts to smile a little. "It's... here." Kurt pulls out his phone and flips through his text messages, then hits a link. "This."

Finn listens to the song and smiles. "That's really sweet. Why's it got you all Deep Thoughts with Kurt Hummel, though?"

"That's... someone sent that _to me_ , Finn."

"Oooh. Ok. Makes more sense." Kurt waits for Finn to ask him who sent the video. Finn instead focuses his rapt attention on Midnight Club.

Kurt's a little thankful that Finn doesn't ask, because he's not sure if he's ready to go that far into the conversation. They play in silence for a few minutes before Kurt breaks it. "So? What would you do? Would you take that chance?"

Without looking at him, Finn says, "If I felt the same way as whoever sent you that song? You bet your ass."

"I never thought about it," Kurt says after a pause. "There comes a point where I stopped looking and thinking, first because of Blaine, and then because I just figured I needed to get out of here first." He lets the silence hang between them for a little while. "I think I could though," he concludes quietly.

"Then you don't need me to tell you what to do, man," Finn says. "You're the smart one."

Kurt nudges him with his shoulder, silently arguing. "Books and emotions aren't the same."

"Well, I've done some pretty stupid stuff where girls are concerned."

"Boys are stupid," Kurt proclaims. "Not just the straight ones, either."

Finn nods. "Truth."

They've continued playing the game for several minutes when Kurt speaks up, a little bit of a smirk on his face. "I still may let him convince me."

"Never give up on love, dude," Finn says, encouragingly. "I think I read that somewhere and it's totally true."

 _Love_. Kurt closes his eyes, because that was the word that even Puck had danced around saying explicitly. He didn't let himself use it in his hours of ruminations. And of course Finn, sweet clueless Finn, has to go and say it out loud. Make it real.

"Kurt? Kurt? You know you're driving backwards now, right?"

Kurt's eyes fly open. "Oh. Ooops." He awkwardly regains control, driving forward.

 

Finn and Kurt spend the rest of the morning and a good portion of the afternoon playing games and then watching movies before Burt kicks them out of the living room so he can watch a Deadliest Catch re-run-athon. Kurt heads up to his room and turns on iTunes while he cleans out his email box and responds to a few messages on Facebook. He's thinking about turning off the music and working on Pip Pip Hooray when "The Edge of Glory" starts. Kurt grins after a minute, and before he can talk himself out of it, he find the URL for the audio on YouTube and texts it to Puck. A few more minutes pass as he's listening to the song, and then he heads downstairs, poking his head into the living room.

"Dad? I think I'm going to go out for a little while."

"Hmm?" Burt shifts his attention from the TV. "Where you going?"

Kurt shrugs. He hadn't thought this through any farther than his second text to Puck. Speaking of Puck, his phone vibrates as Puck replies. He glances down before looking back at his dad. "Just out for a walk. Maybe grab something to eat."

"Okay. Be home before too late."

"Okay, Dad."

Kurt runs back up the stairs and starts digging in his closet for a pair of sneakers that fits and aren't his running shoes. By the time he'd finds them and puts them on, as well as fixing his hair just a bit, nearly ten minutes has passed. He passes by Finn's doorway and knocks on the doorway. "Hey, I'm going out."

Finn looks up. "Oh, 'kay. Have fun."

"Thanks." Kurt heads down the stairs, waves at his dad and Carole, and slides out the front door. He heads down the stairs and out towards the road, then stops, watching the approaching figure.

 

Puck ends up working almost the entire day on Sunday, because the guy that was supposed to take over for him at two didn't show until almost four. He starts to go to the library, but then realizes it's Sunday, not Saturday, so that source of free entertainment isn't available. He walks around downtown for a bit, strangely reluctant to go home, and he's just hanging out on a bench near the big traffic circle when his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

 _Your turn_ and there's a YouTube URL right after that. Puck grins and hits the link, turning up the volume after making sure no one else is around.

At first he's a little chagrined, because really, just Lady Gaga? But then he listens to the chorus, and he realizes what's Kurt's trying to say. When the song ends, he hits replay, listening to it again, and he wonders if Kurt meant something else, too, because of the first line. He's halfway through the song when he pauses it and flips over to the still-open text window, where Kurt's sent another two messages. _There ain't no reason you and I should be alone tonight…_ followed by _I know you go in later tomorrow._

Puck grins, because yeah, he doesn't have to open the store the next morning, and he's already started walking down Market towards Central. It'll only take ten minutes or so to get to Kurt's house. _omw it'll take me about 10 min. Wear shoes for walking._ It's a nice night, and swinging by Thai Jasmine before going to eat at the park sounds like a good idea to Puck.

It's kind of warm, but Puck's in pretty good shape, so he jogs part of the way, down Central, past Kurt's dad's shop. He slows when he passes the old concrete shop and walks the rest of the way. Puck can't resist smiling when he turns the corner and sees Kurt leaning on the mailbox, waiting. He can tell when Kurt sees him, because he stops moving for a moment, then pushes off the mailbox and walks towards Puck.

"Hey," Puck calls when Kurt gets just a little closer, grinning.

"Count yourself lucky," Kurt responds a little acerbically, but Puck can tell he's mostly joking around. "I don't leave the house like this for just anyone."

"Like what?" Puck looks Kurt over as they fall into step, heading back the way Puck came.

"This!" Kurt gestures to the length of himself. "These sneakers don't really match the rest of my outfit, for starters." He makes a face, and Puck just nods solemnly, because he's really not seeing what the problem is. "Then there's this." He points to his face.

Puck squints at him as they turn the corner, then shrugs. "I don't get it."

Puck's eyes widen a little as Kurt picks up his hand and brings the back of it along Kurt's cheek. It's just a little rough, and since they've mostly been walking under the trees, he had attributed the shadow along Kurt's jawline to the shade and the evening light. His fingertips twitch, and he lets out a small whimper as he flips his hand and trails his fingertips down the sandpapery trail of Kurt's cheek.

He can feel Kurt lean into his fingers, and Puck clears his throat awkwardly. "I don't know, it suits you." He runs his eyes along the path his fingers just traced, and watches Kurt flush pale pink under his gaze. Puck smiles, and lets his hand trail down Kurt's arm and then take Kurt's hand. "C'mon, I know you like Thai food."

"This is true," Kurt concedes.

"I thought we could get take out and walk over to Lincoln Park. It's a little ways, but it's a nice night." Puck shrugs.

"True. And we've only got a little while long before school starts back." Kurt wrinkles his nose, and Puck thinks that maybe, like Puck, he's not quite ready to give up on this last summer, even though he can't wait to leave next summer.

"I can't believe the summer's almost over," Puck concedes. "At the same time… I mean. Wow."

Kurt smiles. "You have sort of had a big summer," he agrees.

Puck just squeezes Kurt's hand lightly in acknowledgement, and they walk in companionable silence. There aren't many people out, but Puck knows, logically speaking, he's being stupid. If he's not going to be out in Lima, he needs to not be walking down the street hand in hand with another boy.

But as his t-shirt said back in the spring, he's with stupid, and he's enjoying the prolonged contact far too much to give it up before he absolutely must.

"Absolutely must" is quicker than Puck would like, because the Thai place is only a five or six minute walk from Kurt's house, and they drop each other's hands as they reach the door.

It turns out that their favorite dishes overlap, so they pick out two entrees and decide to share them, then settle on the bench outside to wait for their order to be prepared.

"School," Kurt says with a sigh. "At least it's an excuse for new clothes."

Puck laughs. "Yeah, my mom's taking Hannah and I down to Dayton on Friday."

"More Target?" Kurt teases with a raised eyebrow.

"Could be worse," Puck can't resist teasing back. "I could be devoted exclusively to Blue Light Specials."

Kurt wrinkles his nose and makes a face before giggling slightly. "One day, Noah Puckerman. One day."

"I'll look forward to it. Maybe," Puck qualifies, and they both laugh.

"Seriously, you're not looking forward to school either?" Kurt continues after a few moments.

Puck shakes his head. "Not really. It'll be nice to start up glee club again." He shrugs. "And I like football okay. Class is class."

"Yeah," Kurt agrees. "But now that I know you're some kind of math genius, I'm going to have to get you to help me out."

"In exchange for help with history," Puck counters. "I've put it off as long as I can."

"I think I can manage that," Kurt says with a smile, and then they're interrupted as one of the workers brings their order to them. They're back up and walking, then, faster, probably because of smelling the food, Puck thinks.

"What extraordinarily strange assignment do you think Schue will start the year off with?"

"Country," Puck answers definitively. "We've barely done any. But I have it figured out if that's the case; I can get by doing Johnny Cash."

"Mmm, the man in black," Kurt says with a smile. "I watched _Walk the Line_ because of Joaquin  & Reese, but then I went and started listening to the music. What song would you do?"

"'Folsom Prison Blues' or 'Ring of Fire.' Though I love his versions of 'Solitary Man,' 'Hurt' and 'In My Life.'"

"Ooh. I love all of those."

"You should do 'In My Life,' come to think of it," Puck offers. "Or, if you want to go for a comedic choice with regards to country, there's really only one choice."

"Oh?" Kurt raises an eyebrow, a little wary, and Puck smirks.

"Definitely. Taylor Swift's 'You Belong With Me.' "

Kurt smacks his arm, but he's laughing along with Puck. "Can you imagine the look on Schue's face? Hell, even the look on _Finn's_?"

"Now you _have_ to, if Schue makes us do country. I'll make sure and record his facial expression for posterity."

"Do you know," Kurt says with an evil smirk, "I might have a small collection of photos, videos, and overall thoughts that I'm going to make sure and share with my future nieces and/or nephews? I am going to be an _awesome_ Uncle Kurt."

"I probably have some great stuff to add to that. Elementary school, middle school."

"Sweet!" They walk in silence for a few moments before Kurt continues. "If we do country… Rachel's going to do 'Surrey with the Fringe on Top,' from _Oklahoma_. And Mercedes will protest and end up doing something that's not country at all."

"Finn will do Garth Brooks."

"Oh, yeah. And Quinn will do Dixie Chicks."

The pair continues laughing until they reached one of the bigger intersections in Lima; five roads converging at almost the same point. "Maybe we should've picked a different park," Puck concedes after a moment, but Kurt just shakes his head. "Schoonover's all the way up past school, and Industry's a long walk."

"Oh well," Puck shrugs and nods his acknowledgement. "At least it's not far to Lima Memorial if necessary."

Kurt just rolls his eyes as they (finally) cross the street, the park entrance now in sight. It's just late enough that parents are clearing their children from the playground, and the picnic shelters are empty. Kurt glances at a table under a tree with a questioning eyebrow, and Puck nods his assent. When Kurt sits down, Puck starts pulling out containers, and then sits down beside him, not across from him.

They dig into the calamari first, then put the two containers of curry between them. "Mmm, massaman," Kurt mumbles, and Puck feels the same way about his bite of choo-chee curry. They alternate between the containers, occasionally reaching for a bite at the same time and laughing.

Almost unconsciously, but not quite, Puck moves closer to Kurt as they eat, until they're touching from hip to knee, and despite the warm day, Puck finds himself leaning into the warmth from Kurt's body. Their shoulders brush periodically, and one time, Kurt turns to smile brilliantly at Puck. It's all Puck can do not to pull Kurt even closer and kiss him, but he controls himself, if only barely, and returns the smile.

When they finish scraping the last bit of rice and curry out of the containers, Puck stands up and tugs Kurt towards the trunk of the tree that's shading them. "C'mere." He sits down and miraculously, Kurt seems to understand exactly what Puck had in mine, sitting down in front of Puck, just slightly to the side, leaning most of his torso against Puck's chest. "I need to ask you something."

"I figured you would eventually," Kurt answers, sounding a little resigned. "About Karofsky?"

Puck nods, his face brushing against Kurt's hair. "Yes."

Kurt tenses against him, then exhales loudly. "You guessed at the reason he was so blatantly and over-the-top homophobic. I didn't. I thought he was just one of those creepy angry homophobes. I thought that maybe he just saw me as weak, as someone who wouldn't _really_ fight back." Puck reaches around and puts his hand on top on Kurt's. "I confronted him. I followed him into the locker room, which I _know_ was really stupid, and yelled at him, and… he just _grabbed_ me and kissed me. Kissed me!"

"I'm not allowed to kill him, am I?"

"No," Kurt agrees. "You aren't. And he did apologize. A real apology, not the fake one that Santana blackmailed him into making in Figgins' office."

"She _blackmailed_ him."

"Mmm-hmm. I finally got out of him how she knew." Kurt starts to chuckle, the sound vibrating between them. "He was checking out Sam's ass in the hallway one day."

Puck snorts with laughter. "Seriously?"

"Then he tried to tell her he was just checking to see what kind of jeans he was wearing."

Puck roars. "Did he think that was believable?"

"Apparently. But," Kurt sighs, and Puck bites back the remainder of his laughter. "It was awful, Puck. That's why he threatened to kill me, if I told anyone. Somehow, as angry as he was last fall? It seemed all too possible. I wasn't convinced he wouldn't try even if I kept my mouth shut. For awhile it felt even worse, because I was counting it as my first kiss."

"But you tried to fake-date Brittany."

"And, ultimately, that's what I've decided. My first kiss, however ill-conceived an idea it was, was with Brittany. It's a bittersweet memory, but many are."

Puck nods, because he understands that. He has a whole head full of them, after all.

"But that's why I didn't even visit for so long," Kurt continues. "I wasn't sure that I wouldn't run into him. And then the one time I did, for the benefit, guess who was in the halls?"

"Karofsky."

"Mmm-hmm. Blaine was an _idiot_ , but luckily Santana was around. She scared him off with something about razors in her hair." Kurt chuckles for a moment. "Come to think of it, she might have been primed to spot Karofsky's checking of Sam's ass thanks to overhearing our conversation."

"You think he'll come out?"

"He needs to tell _someone_. He's never told anyone. I figured it out, obviously, and Santana guessed. I think it's why he's been so angry, keeping it all inside. Even if he just told his dad, I think it would help him."

"Probably," Puck agrees. "I felt… really light, I guess, after I told my mom. And I didn't even plan to tell her. She was mid-sentence, talking about some new dessert she had at lunch. But once I told her, I felt like I should tell Hannah, and by then I was on a roll." Puck rests his head against Kurt's hair, risking the other boy's wrath, and inhales. "I feel stuck. When I think about school. I know it's smarter not to come out, but…"

"But when you're surrounded only by people who know, it feels good," Kurt finishes, almost whispering.

"Exactly," Puck breathes into Kurt's hair. He squeezes Kurt's hand. "I'm not kidding myself, am I? That it'll be easier away from here? I can just start off with everyone knowing?"

"No, I don't think you're kidding yourself," Kurt answers slowly. "If you are, I'm kidding myself, too. I know nothing is ever perfect, but it does seem like it will be easy. So much easier."

Puck lets the conversation pause, bringing his other arm around Kurt's waist, and he moves his face a little further into Kurt's hair. He can't place the scent, but he wants to keep smelling it.

“You are allowed to kiss me, you know,” Kurt says quietly. “I figure that’s part of the convincing.” Puck can hear the teasing note in his voice, but also a bit of uncertainty.

“Ah, well. It’s... I’m not sure I trust myself. I’ll want to just keep going,” Puck admits.

“We are two eighteen year old boys, that is true. Between the two of us, though, surely…" Kurt lets his voice trail off, and Puck closes his eyes for a moment as he smiles. He hears what Kurt isn't saying.

Carefully, Puck straightens a little and maneuvers their bodies a bit. "I'll hold you to that, then." He reaches up to cup Kurt's cheek, and leans in, pressing his lips against Kurt's softly as their eyes fall closed.

He feels Kurt shift his weight, and one hand snakes around Puck's neck. Puck's in the middle of debating whether to pull back or take it farther when Kurt makes the decision for him, parting his lips and running his tongue gently along Puck's.

Well, if that's what Kurt wants, who is Puck to deny him? Puck lets his lips open, his own tongue darting out to slide along Kurt's. He hears a low moan, and thinks it could have been him, but it could have been Kurt, or maybe even both of them. He feels Kurt's mouth open a little further and his own moves with Kurt's. Their tongues are twining around each other now, and this time Puck knows it's him that's moaning.

He won't pretend not to have dreamed about this moment. Fantasized about it. He imagined it dozens of ways: at Kurt's house. At Puck's apartment. In front of Starbucks. While Kurt was working at his dad's shop. In the choir room at school. In a heartbreakingly too far in the future scenario, after they win Sectionals for the third year in a row. In Kurt's Navigator. In the middle of the mall. In the locker room. After a football game.

And yet, he didn't really anticipate this. Sitting at the foot of a tree in the park as the sun sets, before summer's even ended, Kurt almost sitting in his lap, _wanting_ to be kissed, wanting it in a way that Puck hoped for, but wasn't sure he'd get. It's not the same longing Puck has, not yet, but there's so much potential in this one kiss.

When he begins to slowly pull back, ending the kiss, he distinctly hears Kurt whimper, and there's a mental smirk in Puck's head, definitely. Even after they've pulled apart, he keeps peppering little kisses on Kurt's lips, trying to give them both a chance to calm down just a bit. When he thinks he, at least, can handle it, he parts his lips again, touching just the tip of his tongue to Kurt's top lip. He's gratified when Kurt's mouth opens immediately, and just like that, their mouths are pressed tightly together, tongues sliding together, and Puck's pretty sure he could stay in this park for… well, not forever, because they'd both get hungry, but longer than they probably should. Puck regretfully separates them again, and takes a good look at Kurt.

His face is flushed, lips swollen, and his eyes are slightly glazed. Puck grins lazily, because _he_ made Kurt look like that. It occurs to him that he probably doesn't look all that different, if he could see his own face.

"Mmmm," Kurt breathes slowly, and pulls Puck's head to his shoulder. "We're going to have to be careful."

"Careful?"

"What we start. How far we go." Kurt's not at his most articulate, but that could be because Puck's placing featherlight kisses on the bit of Kurt's shoulder and neck that's right there in front of him.

"Kay." Puck reaches out with his tongue and licks Kurt's neck softly. "Don't invite me over when no one else is home. If I come over and no one happens to be home, we need to stay downstairs." He kisses the spot he just licked. "Unless or until…" He trails off, and feels Kurt's head nod above him.

"Okay. Yeah." Kurt agrees, and his head tilts away from Puck, giving Puck better access to his neck. "This is. Good."

"School's gonna be hell," Puck mumbles, still nipping and licking at Kurt's neck. "How'm I supposed to learn stuff?"

"Have to," Kurt gasps. "Gotta get out, remember."

"Yeah," Puck agrees, pulling back slightly to kiss along Kurt's jawline. "Oh, shit. Shit. Sorry."

"What?" Kurt's eyes fly fulling open. "What's wrong?"

"Um." Puck straightens and trails a finger along the join of Kurt's neck and shoulder. "I didn't realize."

"Didn't realize?" Kurt narrows his eyes, but then comprehension hits. "Puck!"

"I'm sorry!" Puck defends himself. "It's not even a particularly good one," he adds, a little disgusted with himself. "I really didn't mean to."

Kurt just raises his eyebrows, expression still a little stony.

"Really!"

Kurt smiles then and kisses his cheek; Puck thinks that he could really get used this. "I believe you. Just remember, payback's a bitch."

Puck wrinkles up his face in a grimace. "I am so screwed."

"Definitely." Kurt laughs and stands, pulling Puck up beside him. "We should probably head back soon, anyway."

"Probably." They gather their trash and search a bit for the garbage cans, then head towards the entrance and the busy intersection once more. "How's your musical going? You haven't mentioned it in awhile."

Kurt sighs a little beside him as they cross the street. "It could be going better. I think my dialogue is insipid. The overture is excellent, some of the other songs are positively inspired, but I have nothing for a finale, nor an end-of-the-first-act number."

"Do you have to have a number to close the first act?"

" _All_ musicals have a big production number at the end of the first act!" Kurt's eyes widen, and if Puck didn't know better, he'd think that Kurt was going to hyperventilate at the mere suggestion.

"But do _you_ have to?" Puck shrugs. "Why not try something different? Worst case scenario, you go back later and add one, right?"

Kurt's eyes are still wide, but he seems a little calmer. He does look incredulous, staring at Puck as though he might at any moment transform into an alien or something equally disconcerting, but since Puck's apparently suggested flouting all laws of musicals, he guesses Kurt's allowed to look like that. "I… I don't know," Kurt mumbles after a few more moments of stunned silence. "It would… I could… maybe. Maybe," he says a little louder, and gives Puck a slight smile. "That would solve that problem, at least."

Puck just returns the smile and shrugs, because hey, he didn't really know he was being so helpful, but he's glad he was. "And your essays?" he says with a bit of a smirk.

Kurt rolls his eyes and punches him on the shoulder. "Ugh!"

"You're the one who said you were going to finish all of them before school started."

"I've changed my mind," Kurt says with a sniff. "I'll finish them by the end of the day on Labor Day."

Puck laughs a little. "Changed your mind, or just procrastinating?"

"Like you've finished any of yours!"

"I have," Puck counters. "I finished the ones for Hunter, 'cause of the rolling admissions thing. I was gonna ask you to look over them, though."

"Oh, sure," Kurt answers quickly. "I can do that. Just email them to me." He frowns a little. "I suppose I'd better get to working on mine, then," he adds, and sticks his tongue out just a bit.

"Careful what you do with that," Puck cautions with a knowing smile, then continues. "Yes, you should. Hunter's not my first choice, and I doubt it's yours, but at least getting a yes from them would be a for-sure not-gonna-be-a-Lima-Loser moment."

"Yes," Kurt agrees fervently. "The first letter will be…" He lets his voice trail off, and Puck just nods, because even the thought of it makes his chest tighten a little.

If Puck's honest with himself, he'll probably cry a little. From relief. From joy. For all eighteen years of being stuck in a small Midwestern town. A little bit for all the people that won't make it, that won't get out. As much as he knows the impossibility of it all, he can't help hoping that all thirteen of them in New Directions that are graduating will make it out, too. Selfishly, he hopes most of them won't make it to New York City.

They reach Central, and stop on the corner. "I need to get home," Puck admits, a little reluctantly.

"I should, too." Kurt steps a little closer to Puck, just enough that they're definitely in each other's personal space. "I'm enjoying being convinced," Kurt adds, a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah?" Puck lets a pleased grin appear on his own face. "Good." He brings his hand up to graze across Kurt's cheek, thinking that he's probably not going to get a view of Kurt unshaven again for a long while. "I'll see you Tuesday," he whispers after a moment, and brushes his lips across Kurt's before stepping back and releasing him. Kurt's eyes are shining brightly and it takes every bit of self-control Puck possesses to keep stepping backward. Kurt raises his hand and Puck matches the gesture before turning to head back over the river.


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn knows things.

It doesn't take long to reach home, and his mom's sitting in the living room, watching a repeat of _Extreme Makeover: Home Edition_. Puck makes a face, because he's never figured out what's so appealing about the show. No matter how nice the house looks at the end, there's still been some sort of massive tragedy that isn't going to change. He crosses through on the way to the kitchen, though, and his mom mutes the screen for a moment.

"Long day at work?"

Puck shrugs and drops down into the chair. "Dude that was supposed to replace me was two hours late. Went and had dinner at the park." There's a little smile playing at his lips. Even though he's trying to be indifferent, he's still riding high on the exhilaration of the past few hours.

"Did you have a good time, Noah?" his mom teases, and there's a knowing smile on her lips.

"Yes," he grinds out with a roll of his eyes, but his smile's a little bigger.

"Good." She nods, then inclines her head towards the kitchen. "You said you ate, but there's some leftovers in the kitchen if you want a snack."

"Thanks." Puck rises from the chair and goes into the kitchen, poking through the refrigerator. There's a huge vat of soup, but Puck doesn't feel like anything warm. Then he finds a bowl half-full of cantaloupe and smirks. "Score," he says softly, before pulling it out and discarding the plastic wrap covering the top. He grabs a fork and heads down the hall to his room.

"Noah!"

"What's up, Hannah?"

"Can you look at this for me?" She's holding up some kind of schoolwork, and Puck sighs before nodding, putting down his snack and taking her work in hand. A few suggestions later, and he's back on his way to his room. He sits down heavily in front of his computer, scanning emails and Facebook while he eats.

There's nothing really interesting, though the overall tone of Facebook is one of "Just over a week until school starts, OMG!" and it looks like a lot of people are back in town. Puck's hung out with Sam and Mike some over the summer, but only occasionally, and he knows that Rachel was in town most of the summer, too. Other than that, he's not really paid attention to anyone from school except Finn and mostly Kurt, and it occurs to him that regardless of whatever else he and Kurt are behind closed doors, some things are going to show. Like the fact that Kurt's now one of his best friends, and vice versa. When it's just Puck, Finn, and Kurt, everything is easy, and Puck hadn't really considered how that might change. He's not going to go get a beard just for the sake of staying in the closet, but it hits him for first time that staying closeted might not be as simple as just not coming out.

Before he closes his email, he sends Kurt the file with the second drafts of his essays for Hunter. Then he pulls up iTunes, because he wants to send Kurt another song, but he hasn't figure out which one yet. He hits random and spends the next ten minutes looking for possibilities, and then another fifteen minutes listening to the two possibilities on repeat. He finally decides on the second one, and then waits patiently for his computer to load Youtube. Once he grabs the URL, he painstakingly types it into a text message, double-checking to be sure he's copied it correctly.

 _We're not the same, we're different tonight_

He checks the clock; it's been about forty-five minutes since he and Kurt went their opposite directions, which means Kurt's probably alone by now, or worst case, with Finn. Puck nods once to himself and hits send.

It's at least thirty minutes before Kurt responds, and within a minute there are two. Puck smiles at the first, another line from the song, and outright grins at the second. He ponders the best way to respond, and finally settles on _Night. Dream of me. ;)_. He knows Kurt may not see it until the morning, but at least Puck's put the thought out there in the universe, right?

 

Kurt stops just before he enters the house and pulls his shirt awkwardly to one side. If he's lucky, his dad and Carole will be watching television, and he can lean in with only his right side facing them to say hello and good night.

Luck is with him, as he hears the television humming as soon as he steps inside the house. He crosses to the doorway and does the lean he mentally practiced. "I'm home."

"Have a good walk?"

"Yes. It's a nice evening," Kurt offers. "You should sit out on the porch."

"We might do that," Carole smiles at him. "Are you headed upstairs?"

Kurt nods. "I think I'll try to make it a relatively early night."

"Six am comes early," Burt agrees approvingly, and Kurt smiles.

"Good night, Dad, Carole."

"Good night."

"Night, son."

Kurt grabs a bottle of water from the refrigerator, along with plate of watermelon slices, and heads upstairs. On his way up, his shirt slides back into a normal position, and he lets it. He's just sat down at his desk when Finn appears in the doorway.

"Hey, I thought I heard you come up the stairs."

Kurt spins in his desk chair, still opening his water bottle. "Indeed I did," he agrees, and takes a quick gulp. "It's nice out, but warm," he says as he hefts the bottle. "Want some?" he asks, gesturing to the plate of sliced watermelon.

"Mmmhmm," Finn mumbles, already biting into the slice he snatches off the plate.

"Just don't get any juice on the sheets," Kurt adds, then sighs. "That's what the carpet and the vacuum cleaner are for." He's lived in the same house with Finn for long enough now to know that spills are an inevitability. Stains, however, do not have to be.

Finn wipes his hands on his shirt and grins. "I'm just gonna toss it in the hamper later anyway."

"Your mother is a saint," Kurt notes, then stretches to his right to grab a slice for himself.

Finn crams another piece of watermelon into his mouth right as he notices the dark spot on Kurt's neck. "Dude," he says, half-choking on his fruit. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Is what what you think it is?" Kurt raises his eyebrows and takes a bite of his slice, a little confused.

"On your neck."

"On my... Oh!" Kurt's eyes widen as he remembers what Puck had said in the park. "Um."

Finn laughs out loud. "It totally is! Oh man!"

Kurt's sure he's blushing, and he eats more watermelon to avoid having to respond immediately. Finally, he sniffs and does so. "What's so funny about it?"

'I dunno. You're just usually so, like, put together. Sorta funny to see your feathers out of place, is all."

"It's not that big, is it?" Kurt asks, a little uncertain. "He said it wasn't, but once I got past Dad, I forgot to look..."

'Well, it's not the biggest one I've seen, but you're kinda...well..."

"Pale?" Kurt suggests with a grimace.

"I was gonna say 'really really pale', but yeah."

"Payback is _so_ going to be a bitch," Kurt mutters. "Accidental or no."

Finn snorts. "Knew that balloon animal thing wasn't true."

Kurt looks at Finn curiously. "What on _earth_ are you talking about? Balloon animals?"

"What? Oh, nothing. Just something I heard somewhere."

"I have no understanding of the way your mind works, Finn Hudson. Balloon animals. Like little puppies and things?"

"It's just, I know a guy..."

Kurt raises one eyebrow and gestures for Finn to continue.

"He says he can make hickies in shapes. You know, like balloon animals?"

"An... interesting skill," Kurt replies slowly, because he's still not really sure why this is relevant. He pauses to take a sip of water, thinking over the odd turn the conversation has taken, when it hits him. He splutters and chokes on his sip of water. "You... you!"

"What? What about me?'

Kurt points a finger and does his best glare. "You knew."

"Dude. I know I'm not always the least clueless guy in the world, but...come on," Finn says. "I may not be a smart man, but I do know what love is,'" he adds in his best Forrest Gump voice, which, for the record, isn't particularly good.

Kurt splutters some more. "Please tell me that wasn't supposed to be Forrest Gump. Tom Hanks is somewhere in LA feeling queasy." Kurt shakes his head. "And you could've said something."

"Figured if you wanted me to know, you'd say something...either of you."

Kurt shrugs, a little uncomfortably. "I was going to before school started."

"I didn't want to rush you into telling, and I really didn't want to rush him, you know? I mean, I'm sure you figured it out, but this is kind of a big deal."

"Yes." Kurt purses his lips, the watermelon and the water both forgotten, and looks up at the wall. A distant observer might think he's looking at Finn, but he's really looking beyond Finn, and to the side. "It is."

"I'm happy for you two. Well, mostly for him. You? Could totally do better?" Finn winks at Kurt.

Kurt grins, a little pleased, but shrugs with one shoulder. "I think we both know that things are not always what they seem."

"Well, Rachel always says I'm not particularly good at noticing the obvious, so maybe that meant it was easier for me to notice this." Finn quirks a crooked grin. "'Cause this certainly isn't something anybody would have seen coming."

Kurt laughs a little, shaking his head. "No, probably not. It still feels a little unreal to me." He shrugs again. "It's still scary and I still don't know..." he trails off, willing Finn to understand what he can't quite put into words.

"Sometimes you've just gotta take things on faith, I guess," Finn says. "Just trust it's gonna work out how it's meant to be and just...go for it."

"Leap," Kurt agrees after a moment, nodding, and stays quiet for a moment. His phone buzzes insistently, breaking the quiet. "Sorry," he says, "I'll just..." He feels his lips twitch up when he sees that the message is from Puck, and he quickly opens it, tilting his head at the first part, then pressing his thumb to the URL. "Let's see what it is today, right?" he says, addressing Finn again.

"Heh. Look at you. Dude, that rocks."

"What?" Kurt looks up from his phone. "Look at me what?"

"You're totally like...what's that word Rachel uses?" Finn grins at Kurt like a fool. "Smitten. You're smitten."

Kurt can feel himself flushing, and he fights the urge to put his hands on his too-warm cheeks. "I... " He bites his lip and looks at Finn with a little smile. "Maybe." Because he really wishes tomorrow wasn't Monday, and there's a feeling of warmth infusing him that started as soon as he read that it was Puck texting him.

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"It's ok to be happy."

"I never expected to be while I was still here," Kurt responds, voice close to a whisper.

"Surprise happy is even better, bro. Go for it."

Kurt just smiles, and sets his phone down. "Thanks, brother of mine."

Finn pats Kurt on the shoulder as he leaves the room. "Thanks for the watermelon," he says with a grin, then heads down the hall, leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts. Kurt quickly Googles the lyrics to the song Puck sent, and has the video play again. Kurt smiles brilliantly, not worried if he looks smitten or infatuated or even besotted, and eventually picks up his phone to reply.

 _The indescribable moments of your life tonight_

He waits a moment, then sends a second text.

 _Good night. Pleasant dreams_

He's in the middle of preparing for bed when his phone buzzes again, and waits until he's turned out the light and climbed into bed to read it. _Night. Dream of me. ;)_

Kurt stifles a giggle, because it's just so very Puck-ish. He sets his phone down and dives into his pillow, letting it muffle the little squeal that he finally lets escape.

 

Puck can't convince himself to stop smiling most of the day on Monday. His coworkers notice, several of the customers notice, and when he stops at the library after work, he runs into Ms. Pillsbury, who notices.

"Hello, Puck," she says with a smile. "You look very pleased about something."

"Oh, hey, Ms. P," Puck's grin widens. "I am."

"Have you had a good summer?"

"Absolutely." Puck likes Ms. Pillsbury, even if he thinks she's not all that great at counseling for anything heavy-duty and serious. "How about you?"

"I have," she says with a smile and a nod, then gestures to the books in Puck's arms. "All of those for you?"

"Nah, these two are for my mom, and those three are for my sister. Only this one is for me." He nods at the one on top-- _100 Successful College Application Essays_.

The guidance counselor looks at him proudly. "You're already starting them?"

"Second draft on the ones for Hunter," Puck acknowledges.

"Good for you! Bring them by on the first day of school," she offers.

"Will do. Good to see you, Ms. Pillsbury."

"You too, Puck. Have a good rest of the summer."

"Thanks, Ms. P."

Puck wanders out of the library and heads towards home. He's just made it in the door and delivered the book to their respective recipients when his phone buzzes. He smiles when he sees it's from Kurt, and opens it immediately.

 _Please break my fall and not my heart_ followed by a link, and Puck's pressing his thumb to the link before he stops to think about it. The song is vaguely familiar, but he can't quite place it. He understands what Kurt's saying, though, and he waits on his computer to pull up Google. A quick phrase and he's found the perfect response.

 _If you fall I will catch you_ He adds the link and hits send just as he hears his mom and Hannah enter the apartment. Monday is the one day of the week that his mom insists they all eat dinner together, and that means starting with everyone helping to fix it. Puck pauses the song that Kurt sent with a bit of reluctance and heads to the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?"

"Hello to you, too, Noah," his mother chides. "I thought we'd have stir-fry."

Puck shrugs. "Okay. I'll start on the veggies." He passes Hannah and ruffles her hair. "How was camp today?"

"Okay. Stevie keeps chasing Rebecca and I around the playground after lunch. Why does he do that? Does his brother chase girls, too?"

Puck manages not to laugh. "No, no, Sam doesn't chase girls around the playground." He pulls out the vegetables from the refrigerator and the cutting board from over the stove. "Careful, squirt, I've got the sharp knife out."

"Okay, okay," Hannah responds as she heads towards the microwave, chicken in hand, to defrost it. "I think I know that by now, Noah."

"I'm never sure," Puck defends himself, moving to the side as his mom pulls out the pot to start the rice cooking.

"Stop teasing your sister," she admonishes as she fills the pot. "How was work today, Noah?"

Puck shrugs. "Okay. It was nice not to have to open the store up for a change." He slices the carrots and pushes them to the side before starting on the onions. "I got those books you wanted," he adds, "and I found three of the four Hannah wanted."

"Thank you, sweetie," she smiles. "Did you get anything for yourself?"

"Just one," Puck mumbles, hoping that she doesn't ask for specifics. His mom is mostly fine with her son being gay, but she's not happy that he's planning on heading for New York City, and never coming back. "I saw Ms. Pillsbury while I was there," he adds quickly, as soon as he thinks of it. "The guidance counselor."

"I bet she was surprised to see _you_ in the library," Hannah pipes up, pulling the chicken, now defrosted from the microwave.

Puck scowls as he chops the bell pepper and broccoli. "I read," he defends himself. "Sometimes."

"Be nice to your brother," his mom admonishes, and he sticks his tongue out at Hannah while his mom's pouring the rice into the pot. She crosses her eyes at him, and he smirks. "I think it's admirable that he's been using the library this summer." Puck quickly rearranges his facial features and returns his mom's smile.

"You should go see her when school starts back," his mom continues. "See if she can suggest some schools that are closer to home. The University of Cincinnati has an excellent school of music, someone at work told me, and there's always IU."

Puck sighs and puts down his knife. "No, Mom. I'm not staying in the Midwest. Okay? No matter how good someone at work thinks their alma mater is." Puck was tired of this conversation; they'd been having some portion of it for months now.

"I just think you're limiting yourself by only looking in New York City."

"I told you I'd consider other schools on the East Coast, if I liked them well enough."

"Boston and Providence are even farther away!"

"Mom…" Puck hands her the chopped vegetables. "I get it, okay? I know you don't want me to leave. I know it's going to be hard on you and Hannah. But I have to. I have to get out of this town and this state. More than that, I _want_ to be in New York. I can be _happy_ there."

His mom puts the vegetables to the side and adds the chicken to the oil in the pan. "I know you think you want to be there," she says, eyes softening. "I just worry."

"I don't _think_ it, I know it," Puck rejoins. "I'm sorry if you're worried, but I know what I want, Mom."

Hannah inserts herself between them, holding up the soy sauce and the ginger. "If Noah goes to New York, I can go visit him, right?" She turns to Puck and grins. "Right, big brother? You'd still need to keep an eye on me, after all."

Puck rolls his eyes but nods. "Yeah, yeah, you can come visit me next year," he concedes. "Want some help with the sauce?"

Hannah nods and the two of them work together to get the sauce ready, Puck pulling the cornstarch down from the cabinet. "Noah. You can't tell her that," his mom interjects, glaring a little.

"What?" Puck defends himself. "I'm not going to turn her away, and you know you'll give in."

"Just wait until _you_ have kids!" She snaps her mouth shut and blanches, and Puck sets his mouth in a narrow line.

"Call me when dinner's ready," he forces out of his mouth to Hannah, and as soon as she nods, Puck stalks back to his room, closing the door and then punching his bed.

"Dammit!"

He turns the music back on that he had paused earlier. He flops onto his bed and covers his face with his pillow before letting out a low scream. It's like a punch in the gut, and the burning sensation is spreading.

 _How is it possible to miss someone so much when you only got to know her for a few hours?_ he sends to Kurt without much thought, and he figures Kurt might respond, but he jumps when the phone rings in his hand.

"Hey."

"What's wrong?" Kurt's voice is low and soothing. "Did something happen?"

"Just… we were just laughing around in the kitchen, and then my mom said…" Puck grimaces, unable to continue.

"I'm sorry." It's simple, but sincere, and Puck hears the sound of Kurt closing a door. "To answer your question, I don't know. But I do know that it's okay that you do."

"Yeah. I didn't interrupt your dinner, did I?"

"Don't worry about it," Kurt says dismissively. "I wish I could help."

"You are."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely."

Kurt's silent for just a minute, and when he speaks, he's a little tentative. "I missed you today."

Puck smiles for the first time since he was in the kitchen. "Oh. Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm," and Puck can practically hear a coy little smile on Kurt's face. "I really did. I was hoping it was Tuesday already when I woke up."

"Did you dream about me?" Puck's voice has dropped half an octave, and he knows it sounds husky, especially on the other end of a phone call.

He grins as he hears the little hitch in Kurt's voice. "I–maybe," Kurt admits.

"Are you blushing right now?"

"Probably."

"I wish I could see you."

Kurt's answer is nearly a whisper. "Me too." There's a pause, and then he continues, voice a little louder. "But you should go eat dinner. For Hannah's sake, at least."

"Yeah." Puck sighs, then brightens a little. "She told me Stevie Evans is always chasing her and Rebecca around the playground, and then asked me if Sam chased girls, too."

Kurt laughs. "What did you tell her?"

"I said, no, Sam doesn't chase girls on the playground."

"Nice qualifier."

"I thought so." Puck stops laughing and sits up. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Anytime?"

"Okay, not while I'm in the shower," Kurt appends. "Have a good dinner."

"Yeah, yeah… be good."

"I'm always good!"

"Hanging up now."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Puck ends the call and sets his phone down, then stands and shakes himself off. Just as he heads for the door, Hannah knocks. "Noah, dinner," she calls softly.

Puck opens the door and squats down. "Thanks," he says, messing up her hair. "Sorry I left before we finished making the sauce."

"It's okay," Hannah says with a shrug. "I know you miss her, sometimes."

Puck smiles tightly and takes Hannah's hand, heading back to the kitchen. "Yeah. You set the table already?"

"You can get out the utensils," his mother interjects as they walk in, and then comes over and puts her hands on Puck's shoulders. "I'm sorry, Noah," she says quietly.

Puck just shrugs. "'S okay."

"No, it's not, but…" she shrugs and moves to the side. "Thank you for understanding anyway."

Puck shrugs again and goes to finish setting the table, willing to let the matter drop for the time being, and the rest of dinner passes in relative good cheer.

After dinner's over, Puck pulls out the book he got at the library, reading through it for thirty minutes or so before remembering that he had sent his drafts over to Kurt the day before. He checks his email and spends another forty-five minutes looking through Kurt's suggestions and making some changes. When he finishes, he takes a shower and gets ready for bed, then grabs his phone to send a final text.

 _Dream of me again ;) cant wait to c u tomorrow_

He puts the phone down and curls up under the covers, then checks his phone when it buzzes ten minutes later.

 _Will you do the same? Ditto._

Puck grins. Yeah, he can handle dreaming about Kurt-who-can't-wait-to-see-him.

 

Finn is in the kitchen microwaving a box of bagel bites when Puck shows up. He hears Puck knocking and shoves a hot bagel bite into his mouth, whole. He opens the door with his mouth wide open, huffing "hot! hot!"

Puck raises an eyebrow and walks in, toeing off his shoes and dropping his backpack on top of them. "Dude, you're supposed to eat them warm. Not straight out of the microwave."

"Ah wad hund-ee," Finn mouths around the half-eaten bagel.

Puck snorts, doing a bad job of hiding his amusement, and walks into the kitchen. "Yeah, and now your mouth is going to hurt." He picks up one of the bagels, but doesn't bite into it. "This is what some of us call _patience_ , Finn."

"Ha ha," Finn says, swallowing the bagel. "Yeah, you're the poster child for patience."

Puck holds the bagel in his hand at eye level. "I am not going to be defeated by a bagel. Unlike you." He lowers the bagel and takes a bite. "See? And I can too be patient. I think."

Finn quirks an eyebrow at Puck. "Since when?"

Puck debates with himself whether he should be honest or just reply flippantly, but then, this is _Finn_ , and if he can't be honest with Finn, well. That'd be pathetic. "Um. March. June. I don't know, take your pick. Define patient."

Finn seems to clue in to what Puck's talking about, because he kind of presses his lips together and nods thoughtfully. "Yeah. I guess it's been kind of a summer of change for you, man."

Puck shrugs and puts the rest of the bagel in his mouth. "Yeah. Not sure how that's going to play out when we go back next week, to be honest. I mean, really. Think about it."

"So, are you planning on..." Finn pauses, his eyebrows pressing together into his concerned face. "You know. Being out this year?"

Puck shakes his head. "No. But c'mon, dude. Things..." He frowns. "Restructure, I guess. And I wonder how that's going to work."

"No idea, man. You know however it shakes out, I've got your back, though, right?"

"Right."

"Cool. And dude?"

"Yeah?" Puck mumbles around his food.

"Back off my bagel bites."

Puck shrugs. "It's bad manners not to feed your guests. I know I've heard your mom tell you that a million times."

"You're not guests," Finn says, cramming another bagel bite into his mouth. "You're practically family."

"Nice excuse. I see how it is."

Finn grabs the last three bagels bites, all in a stack, and takes a deliberate bite from all three at once.

"Party foul, dude." Puck shakes his head. "I guess I'll have to go rummage through your freezer now. Since I'm practically family and all."

"Whatever. Just keep your hands off Kurt's Ben & Jerry's. He gets pissed if you eat all his low fat blackberry cobbler. I learned that the hard way."

Puck's got his head stuck in the freezer, and he smirks a little at Finn's comment. It's not his favorite, but ice cream is ice cream, and there isn't any other in the freezer. Probably because of Burt, if Puck had to guess. He pulls it out. "I'll find a way to make it up to him."

"Yeah, I bet you will," Finn mutters under his breath.

Puck pauses in the middle of taking out a spoon. "What?"

"What?"

"What'd you say?" Puck closes the drawer and flips the lid off the ice cream.

"Nothing, man," Finn says. "Just ignore me."

Puck gives Finn a concerned look. "Are you all right? You're acting weird."

"I, um," Finn tries to avoid looking Puck directly in the eyes. "I, uh, I _know_ , dude."

"Know what?" Puck's digging into the ice cream, trying to figure out what Finn knows about ice cream, or maybe it's the bagel bites. Though Finn sounds more serious than he would about food.

Finn sighs. "About you and Kurt," he says. "Look, I'm not trying to pry into your business or anything. I just want you to know, I think it's pretty cool, you two. So, uh, we don't have to talk about it or anything."

Puck chokes just a little, but luckily he's eating ice cream, so it just melts away. "Um." He blinks. "Wow. Okay."

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." Finn shifts foot to foot. "But you know me, right? Big mouth"

The first thing that springs to mind then is _Not as big as Sam's_ , but luckily Puck suppresses that. "No, I mean. 'S okay. I just..." Puck's face wrinkles in confusion. "Am I that obvious?" he finally blurts out, then digs back into the ice cream, determinedly not meeting Finn's eyes.

"No! Naw, man, it's not like that. Kurt told me. I mean, once you know it's there to look for it, yeah, you can kinda see it."

Puck raises his eyebrow, because he's pretty sure Kurt would have mentioned that. "He told you? Or you guessed, and he confirmed?"

"I guess I just kinda guessed. I mean, I saw the hickey..." Finn makes a pained Face. Puck's known him long enough to know it's his thinking face. "So, yeah. I think if it were anybody else, they wouldn't have seen it, but it's YOU and it's HIM, you know? I mean, I'm around you guys a lot."

Puck groans a little when Finn mentions the hickey because, yeah, he's never going to live that one down, but nods a couple of times as Finn finishes talking. He flips the spoon into the sink and puts the rest of the ice cream back into the freezer. "Yeah, I guess."

"Look, I don't think anybody else is gonna know," Finn says.

"Maybe." Puck runs a hand over his mohawk. "But I think it's kind of obvious that we're much closer friends than we were."

"Yeah. I don't think there's anyway to keep that a secret. You guys are really comfortable together now."

Puck nods, because if he says what he's thinking, he's probably going to make Finn uncomfortable. After a minute, he cracks a grin. "The girls are going to think we corrupted him. Or kidnapped him. Something like that."

Finn grins. "Nah. They'll probably just think we all hung out a lot this summer. He's my brother and you're my best friend. It makes sense."

"Oh, wait, that _is_ what we did," Puck says wryly.

"Heh. Then you got nothing to worry about."

"I'm going to hold you to that. I'm going to say, 'But you said it was going to be sooo easy.' "

"I didn't say it was gonna be easy. I just said I didn't think anybody would know."

"Yeah," Puck acknowledges quietly, because he knows it's pretty much going to be the opposite of easy. "It's only nine months, give or take. Right?"

"Only nine months. If anybody can do it, you can."

"Thanks," Puck says, still speaking quietly. "I know you've got my back. That helps. Really."

"If there's anything you need me to do, anything at all, man, you or Kurt just let me know."

Puck nods. "More likely to need you to run interference on the spur of the moment. You know we have the twelve worst gossips in the school all in one club."

"You got it."

Puck starts a little as he hears the garage door opening. They hear the door from the garage open and the sound of Kurt chucking his keys into the bowl on the hallway table. Finn's eyes dart to Puck.

"Oh, so I, uh...I told Rachel I'd give her a call around," he looks at his watch, "now, actually. I'll see you later."

Puck presses his lips together, amused, but he's not going to complain. "Oh, okay," he nods.

Finn gives a little wave as he walks backwards out the door, then turns and sprints upstairs to his room.

Puck leans against the counter and listens to Kurt walk down the hall before he appears in the doorway. He starts for a second, then smiles. "Hi."

Puck grins. "Hi."

"Where's Finn?" Kurt questions, looking around and stepping into the kitchen.

"Ah, when he heard you opening the garage door, he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to call Rachel _right then_." Puck pushes off the counter and takes a step forward.

"Oh?" Kurt closes the distance between them. "Nice of him."

"I thought s–" Puck is cut off mid-word as Kurt presses their lips together. Puck brings his arms up to wrap around Kurt, and he can feel Kurt's arms snaking around him as well. He's not sure which one of them deepens the kiss, but he approves, either way, moaning into Kurt's mouth as their tongues dance together. Too soon, Kurt's pulling away, but now he's kissing up Puck's jaw, and sucking gently on Puck's earlobe.

"Ahhh," Puck gasps, tilting his head slightly.

Kurt releases Puck's earlobe and blows lightly across it. "Like that?" he murmurs, and Puck nods fervently, arms tightening to pull Kurt closer towards him. "Me too," Kurt agrees, and he's fixing his mouth to Puck's again. Puck's pretty sure it's he that takes the kiss to the next level, this time, and he's gratified when he hears Kurt let out a low groan. Kurt's arms are pulling them tightly together, and then– _oh!_

They both jump, pulling apart slightly. "Sorry, sorry," Kurt spits out, flustered.

"No, my bad," Puck responds, just as flustered. "Okay, so, um. New rule."

Kurt grins. "I guess so." He tentatively steps back towards Puck. "We're really pretty bad at these rules."

Puck shrugs and kisses him lightly. "All those years of being bad, I'm pretty good at it." He grins.

Kurt rolls his eyes, but returns the smile and the kiss. "Maybe so," he murmurs, and move closer again, his mouth against Puck's ear. "Maybe I like that," he whispers, and the combination of Kurt's voice, the words he's saying, and his breath against Puck's ear makes Puck shoot his arms out to wrap around Kurt, to hold himself steady.

"Y--Yeah?" he manages to gasp out, walking them backwards a few steps so he can lean on the counter again. "You do?" At Kurt's tiny nod, Puck pulls him into a deep but brief kiss, then starts working his own way slowly up Kurt's jaw. "I think maybe you liked that I gave you that hickey. Even though you think you shouldn't." Kurt gasps a little and shakes his head, but then nods. "Mmm-hmm, that's what I thought," Puck whispers, dropping his voice lower. "I think you want another one." He brings up one hand and traces a finger along the bottom of Kurt's neck, sliding it under his collar. "Not now. But when the other one fades." Puck mouths at Kurt's neck, high up behind his ear, careful not to leave a mark. "But most of all, I think you want me to keep. kissing. you." He punctuates the sentence with careful firm kisses back down Kurt's jaw.

"Yesss," Kurt hisses, turning his face towards Puck's so that their lips are aligned again.

Puck's kissed a lot of girls. It's not something he was ever that proud of, no matter how he acted, and now it's something that sort of disgusts him, if he thinks too closely about it. It was always enough for a good time and nothing more. One girl was enough like another that he didn't even think about sticking with one person until Lauren, and it wasn't like he was getting a lot of action with her. Kurt's the first (and only) boy he's kissed, and the only one he really ever plans to kiss, and despite his overall attraction to men, he's pretty much absolutely fine with the idea of only ever kissing Kurt. While he's pretty sure, intellectually, that there will be other things that they will do that will be even better than kissing, in the moment, he finds that incomprehensible.

For a brief moment, he wishes that there weren't rules. His hands twitch slightly, wanting nothing more than to pull Kurt's shirt over his head, freeing his chest for Puck's hands to wander over. Instead he uses his hands and the rest of his body to flip their positions, so that it's now Kurt leaning against the counter, and he moves one hand to cup Kurt's cheek. Kurt moans a little and tilts his head just enough to put more weight into Puck's hand. Somewhere in the back of Puck's mind he knows that they absolutely must stop soon, before he loses all ability to control himself. But Kurt is in his arms, kissing him, so willing and passionate, and it's hard to let that end.

Kurt's leaning back into the counter, pulling Puck with him, and he's hooked one leg around Puck's calf. Puck's not really sure how they're still breathing and he's pretty sure they're going to break that brand-new rule less than fifteen minutes after they implemented it. Puck's never had to be the one putting the brakes on something physical, and none of it was ever as enjoyable as this. Slowly, reluctantly, he starts to pull back, resting his forehead against Kurt's.

" _Fuck_ ," he breathes out after a minute. "You are the sexiest…" He runs a hand down Kurt's shoulder and arm, capturing his hand. "You… I…"

"Yeah? You… Mmm." Kurt squeezes Puck's hand, then intertwines their fingers. He looks like he's about to say something more when they both hear Finn clomping down the stairs. Kurt looks at Puck a little regretfully as they both straighten and step apart. They drop their hands just as Finn appears in the doorway.

"So!" Finn says a little too loudly, clapping his hands together. "Ready to lose, Puckerman?"

"In your dreams," Puck snorts, then casts a sidelong glance at Kurt as Finn turns his back on them, headed for the living room. Kurt smirks but turns a pale shade of pink. Puck grins and flops down on the floor, and Finn starts the game. He hears Kurt go up the stairs and the shower start, and then he has to make himself concentrate on the game and _only_ the game, because thinking about Kurt in the shower isn't really something he should be doing, especially not while sitting beside Kurt's brother.

When Kurt comes back down the stairs, though, instead of going into the kitchen, he enters the living room and settles himself down on the couch directly behind Puck, magazine in hand. Puck absently registers the pages turning as he mows down Finn, and he's several thousand points ahead when he senses Kurt put the magazine down. A moment more passes, and there's a light touch on the back of his neck. He closes his eyes for a brief second, then bites his lip, determined not to let on to Finn what's going on, because he's pretty sure that half the thrill here is seeing what they can do without Finn noticing.

The touch grows a little firmer against the back of his neck, and then after a few steady moments, Kurt starts to slowly brush his fingertips back and forth, dipping just under the neckline of Puck's t-shirt on one side before trailing back across to dip again under the fabric on the other side. Puck finds himself leaning into the touch, and he can just imagine the pleased smirk that's probably adorning Kurt's face. The thought makes him smirk himself.

Puck's lead has shrunk, but he's still ahead by a respectable amount, and he think he's pretty good at keeping himself playing. Then Kurt slides his hand up Puck's neck and starts toying with his earlobe, the same one that he was playing with in the kitchen earlier. Puck misses an easy shot.

"Dude, that sucked," Finn laughs.

"I'm still winning," Puck points out, but he's leaning his head towards Kurt's hand, and ultimately he's far more interested in the interesting things Kurt's managing to do with just his fingers and Puck's neck. _I never realized something so_ simple _could be so… stimulating._

"For now," Finn acknowledges after a bit. Kurt continues touching and stroking Puck's neck, head, ears, and shoulders, eliciting tiny movements and the occasional hitch in Puck's breath, until suddenly his hand withdraws and he picks up the magazine again. Puck frowns, then realized that he's only two hundred points ahead of Finn. He smiles and concentrates on the game, regaining his lead as quickly as he can, because he figures the sooner he has a big lead, the sooner Kurt's fingers will return.

And that's how the afternoon passes; Puck repeatedly gains a big lead and then loses it slowly as Kurt touches and teases him, and then as soon as the lead shrinks to two hundred points, Kurt's hand evaporates, and Puck hears the magazine pages turning again.

There are much, much worse ways to pass an afternoon.

When it's just after six o'clock, Kurt lets Puck's lead dwindle, and as soon as they are tied, he reaches over Puck shoulder and hits pause. "Oh, look, you're tied," he says in a tone of fake surprise, but Puck's pretty sure Finn buys it. "And now it's time to eat dinner."

"But… you usually cook on Tuesdays. And you've been in here." Finn furrows his brow. "What are we going to eat?"

"We also usually order pizza at least once a week, but it's been almost two."

"Ohhh," Finn says, and nods, which leaves Puck confused.

"I'm missing something." Puck shifts so he's sitting parallel to the couch.

"Our family is horribly disorganized," Kurt explains. "Every time we order pizza, we inevitably only have twenties or fifties in the house, and of course whatever we order is far less than the amount of cash we have." He shrugs elegantly. "So if the delivery driver happens to get a large tip, well. We're just disorganized."

"And does this delivery driver that gets a big tip happen to be someone we know?" Puck asks, suspicious, but he's already grinning.

"Did you know you can request a specific driver?" Finn interjects. "They're very accommodating."

Puck outright chuckles. "And your parents are in on this, too?"

"Absolutely," Kurt nods. "In fact, it was Carole's idea."

"I'll go call. Two extra-large pizzas. Super Supreme, Meat Eaters, or Mexican Fiesta?"

"Mexican Fiesta," Puck and Kurt answer together, then look at each other and grin.

"Hot wings? Or Teriyaki."

Puck shrugs, and Kurt answers for them. "Both? If there's leftovers, we'll have something for lunches tomorrow."

Finn nods and disappears into the kitchen, and Puck leans his head against Kurt's knee. "Naughty."

"You liked it."

"Duh." Puck grins up at Kurt. "And it was very considerate of you."

"I didn't want you to lose," Kurt says neutrally, but his eyes are sparkling.

"Thanks." Puck reaches the hand closest to Kurt up and tugs gently on Kurt's shirt, urging him to bend forward. Kurt complies, and Puck stretches up enough to brush his lips against Kurt's. Kurt pulls back a little to smile at Puck, then mirrors the action, touch feather-light against Puck's lips. _Maybe I should go buy some Chap-stick_ escapes from the back of Puck's mind and across his consciousness.

They're just beginning to pull apart as Finn reenters the room. Puck can almost feel Finn roll his eyes, but he doesn't say anything as he flops into the recliner. "Sam'll be here in 30 minutes. It's $80, so I grabbed two fifties."

"'Kay," Kurt says with a slight nod. Puck's pretty sure it'd be rude to sit and look at Kurt until the food gets there, so he stands up and heads to the bathroom with a quick nod. When he gets back, he sits down on the couch next to Kurt and wraps his hand around Kurt's without really thinking about it. It makes him a little sad that it's that kind of thing that he'll have to _not_ do automatically when they're at school or singing or really almost anywhere out in town, except the movies.

"… and apparently it took about four hours to get it out, because there were so many people watching it."

"It was a huge cloud of smoke," Kurt agrees.

"What're we talking about?" Puck asks.

"The old Speedi-Fuel station near Foundry Park," Kurt explains. "It finally went up in flames."

"Man, that place was full of shit," Puck exclaims. "No wonder it took forever."

"It was _lightning_ that finally did it in," Finn adds. "Not the oil or the kerosene or anything."

"Seriously?" Puck asks, incredulous. "Lightning? That's hilarious."

They continue talking about the ridiculous news in Lima for a few more minutes before there's a knock at the door. Puck stands. "Here, I'll go get it."

Finn nods and hands him the money. "That'll keep him from getting too suspicious," he says approvingly.

Puck goes into the hall and unlocks the front door before swinging it out. He manages to feign a bit of shock. "Hey, Sam."

"Puck," Sam nods. "I wondered why there was enough to feed three instead of two."

"If we're lucky, that is." He hands over the money as he takes the boxes from Sam's hand. "Apparently you're supposed to keep the change."

"They're very clever," Sam says with a roll of his eyes, but he's smiling.

"Shh," Puck lowers his voice. "Finn thinks I'm throwing you off the scent since I'm the one paying."

Sam shakes his head, still a little embarrassed, but now he's laughing about Finn, at least.

"See you next week, dude."

"Yeah, good to see you," Sam nods, they fist-bump, and then Puck's closing the door, back inside _his_ world.

He heads straight to the kitchen, where Finn's already grabbing plates and Kurt's gotten out three drinks. He puts the boxes down in the middle of the table and slides an arm around Kurt for a moment before they separate to sit down.

As it turns out, Kurt was right: there were a few leftovers, enough to feed each of them lunch the next day, and by the time, they've apportioned the remaining slices and wings between them, it's nearly time for Burt to arrive home. "You want a ride home?" Kurt offers quietly, and Puck nods. Puck calls a farewell to Finn, then enters the garage with Kurt, who hasn't yet opened the garage door.

"You okay?"

"Mmm-hmm. Come here."

Puck steps closer. "What?"

"Can't really do this on the street in front of my house, or in front of your apartment building," Kurt explains, wrapping his arms around Puck and pulling him close.

"That's true," Puck murmurs, and closes the rest of the distance between them, bringing one hand up to the back of Kurt's head. The kiss is less urgent than earlier, a little slower, but, one corner of Puck's mind insists, it's somehow all the more passionate, and he's no less regretful to pull away. "We'd better go," he finally acknowledges. "Before your dad drives in and runs over us."

"That's true," Kurt acknowledges, but they keep their hands connected until they reach Kurt's Navigator and climb in. There's a pleasant silence between them as they turn onto Main Street and cross the river. "You want to go see a movie tomorrow?" Puck suggests as they get close to High.

"Sounds good."

"What time do you get done with dinner?"

"Wednesday? Should be done around 6:15. I'll pick you up around 6:30?"

"Yeah." Puck grins as they pull up to the curb. He reaches across and squeezes Kurt's hand briefly before jumping out.

"Bye," Kurt says with a smile.

"Bye," Puck smirks, walking backwards the few steps to the door to the building.

Kurt rolls the window down. "Be good!"

"I'm always good, too," Puck calls back just as he slips inside.


	4. Last Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Siblings, Schue, Santana... also sexy times. Two 18 year old boys, here.

Over the summer, Puck's come to love Wednesdays. They're always his day off, and he can choose whatever he wants to do for the day. When he wakes up, it's nearly two hours later than he woke up the day before, but still before his mom has to leave to take Hannah to camp and herself to work.

"Why don't Hannah & I hang out today?" Puck offers over a bowl of corn flakes. "We can drive you to work, I'll take her swimming, maybe pick up some of her school supplies at Kmart." Hannah looks at him suspiciously. "What? We can get lunch at Captain D's or China Buffet or something."

"That would make things easier," his mom says slowly. "I can give you $30 towards her school supplies. Let me go get her list before you drive me to work."

Puck nods and takes advantage of his mom going into her bedroom to drink the rest of the milk in his bowl. "Wipe your mouth," Hannah whispers. "You have a milk mustache!"

Puck manages to wipe the last traces off just before his mom comes back, and he takes the list solemnly, tucking into the back of his wallet along with the $30 in cash. He and his mom both know he'll probably end up spending some of his own money, too, but so far it makes them more comfortable not to acknowledge it. "Do you have time for me to shower?"

"Go ahead," his mom nods. "I'll finish getting Hannah ready to go out with you."

They're ready to leave just before eight, and it's barely 8:15 by the time he pulls his mom's car into parking lot at Kmart. "Ready to shop, squirt?"

"Yep!" Hannah jumps out of the car and grabs his hand. "Can we get the pretty folders instead of the plain ones?"

"I don't know," Puck answers. "If you need the kind with the brads, we have to get the plain ones."

Hannah wrinkles her nose. "What are brads again?"

"So you can put notebook paper and other things with three holes in them."

"Oh, right!" She runs ahead to pick out a shopping cart and starts to ride it through the store. Their mom would immediately admonish her, but Puck figures it's his big brother duty to encourage badass-ness, so he grabs a cart of his own and challenges her to a race. Hey, the store barely opened; it's almost empty.

They arrive at the school supplies section without permanently injuring anyone, and Puck pulls the list out of his pocket. "Okay, Hannah. You need a binder, six of the folders with brads, four packs of wide-ruled paper, a pack of pencils, two pencil sharpeners, a set of colored pencils, an eraser, a glue stick, a pair of scissors, a ruler, and a pencil box." He looks up. "I know you have the pencil sharpeners and the scissors from last year, and I have a couple of rulers that I'm not using, so why don't you go pick out your folders and pencils first?"

Hannah complies happily and Puck gives the list a once-over. If he gets the cheapest versions of everything, he can use his mom's $30 for that and buy Hannah's himself. He can drop by the camp with Hannah later and ask the counselors to give the bag to Mrs. Evans for Stevie. "Why are you getting those?"

"Shh." Puck makes an exaggerated gesture. "You remember what I told you about Stevie and Sam and their family? I thought we could get Stevie's school supplies for him. The counselors at camp can deliver them for us, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans will never know."

"Ooh, you should get him one of these!" Hannah produces a set of folders & binder decorated with Captain America. "Stevie loves Captain America!"

It ends up taking twice as long as Puck expects to finish picking out the school supplies, but in the end, they've gotten everything Stevie needs, plus extra pencils for Stacy, and everything that Hannah wants. "Ready to check out?"

"Mmm…" Hannah casts her brother a sidelong look, and he sighs, knowing whatever it is, it's going to cost him even more. "We're getting clothes and my backpack at Target with Mom?"

"That's the plan," Puck nods.

"But. You could get me one of the Justin Bieber shirts here?"

Puck rolls his eyes and resignedly pushes his cart towards the girls' clothing. "One Bieber shirt and one pair of jeans. ONE."

"Yay! Thank you, Noah!"

Puck grumbles a little as he pays, but the smile on his sister's face is worth it; he's sure that his mom would never pay for a Bieber shirt, out of some obscure principle, just like she refused to buy him a t-shirt with Darth Maul on it.

By the time they've loaded everything into the car, and separated out Stevie's supplies, it's still far too early for lunch or swimming, so he drives over to the park where Hannah's summer camp meets. He lets Hannah sit in the car while he goes over to the counselors sitting under the picnic shelter.

"We wondered why Hannah wasn't here," the older lady who runs the program says with a warm smile.

"Yeah, I took her school supply shopping," Puck acknowledges. "Listen, Stevie Evans? His big brother's a friend of mine, and so Hannah and I picked up his supplies. Can you give them to Mrs. Evans this afternoon? Just tell her a friend of Stevie's bought them for him."

The woman smiled tenderly at Puck and put one hand to her heart as she reached out for the bag. "That is so nice of you guys. So I guess you know all the details of their situation?"

"Yeah, we–we're in glee club together, and all of us in the club try to look out for them." He shrugs. "I just wanted to drop those off; I promised Hannah lunch from Captain D's and swimming, still."

"Okay, tell Hannah we missed her today!"

"All right." Puck waves and heads back to the car.

"Mission accomplished?"

"Mission accomplished." Puck looks at his phone. 10:45. Hmm. "Listen, would you mind if we picked up the food and went and ate it with a friend of mine? Maybe at the park?"

"That's cool. Who? Finn? Rachel?"

Puck shook his head. "Finn's brother, Kurt."

"Oh, okay." Hannah grins. "That's cool."

"I gotta see if he can," Puck cautions her, and texts Kurt.

 _did u remember ur leftovers_

Kurt must've been taking a break, but he replies almost immediately. _No :(_

 _wanna have lunch w Hannah and me_

 _Sure… when and where_

 _we'll pick it up and come get you. maybe the park? Hannah wants captain ds_

 _Okay. Captains fish sandwich and broccoli pls_

 _c u in 30_

 _:)_

"Okay," Puck turned back to his sister and plugged the phone back into the car charger. "We're on. You know what you want yet?"

"Kids Fish. What are you getting?"

"Fish n' chips, I guess. Not in the mood for shrimp today." He smirks at her before starting the car. "After all, I'm hanging out with one."

She punches him in the shoulder before buckling back up. "Meanie!"

The ride to Captain D's deteriorates from there, and by the time they pull into the lot, Puck's laughing hysterically. He has to repeat the order twice before the worker on the other end of the intercom can understand him, but they finally get their order and head back to the other side of 75 and Hummel's Tire and Lube.

When Puck pulls up, Kurt's waiting out front, looking exasperated, and he hurries over to get into the car. "Hi." He smiles, then turns to Hannah. "Hello, Hannah." Kurt sighs. "We're going to have to tell my dad soon. He keeps giving me funny looks. 'Why are you going to eat lunch with Puck and his sister?' 'Why you and not Finn?'"

Puck snorts, and points his car towards the nearest park. "Well, we probably should," he acknowledges with a shrug, and reaches over to grab Kurt's hand.

"Tell your dad what?" Hannah pipes up.

Puck looks over at Kurt, who shrugs at him and squeezes his hand. "We'll tell you after we finish eating," Puck finally says, pulling into the parking lot and turning off the car. "And now we go eat."

Hannah's easily distracted by the food and then some of the birds milling around, and they finish relatively quickly. Kurt's just put the trash away when Hannah turns to Puck and smiles. "Noah. Tell Kurt's dad what?"

Kurt sits back down next to Puck. "We did finish eating," he acknowledges.

"You don't know how annoying little sisters are."

"No, just little brothers that are taller than me," Kurt says wryly.

"What is it?" Hannah interrupts.

"It's another thing you can't tell people, okay?"

"Okay."

"Kurt and I are… dating." Puck wants to wrinkle his nose, because it sounds awkward, and what they have really isn't awkward at all. It also sounds impermanent, and he knows that Kurt's still 'being convinced,' but he doesn't really want to think about impermanence. Telling his sister that he's convincing Kurt wouldn't really be understood.

"Really?" Hannah looks at them skeptically. "Prove it."

"Prove it?"

"Yeah. Kiss for me."

"Here. Right now."

"Mm-hm. There's not really anyone around," Hannah reasons, and looks at them expectantly.

"Well. Okay?" Puck looks at Kurt, who shrugs, then puts his hand lightly on Puck's cheek. They close the distance between them together, carefully keeping the pressure light and their lips unparted. Puck's pretty sure Hannah won't be content with just a peck, though, so he maintains the steady pressure as long as he can, pulling back only when he can feel his tongue begging to escape. They separate slowly, smiling at each other, when Hannah speaks up again.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, I believe you." She grins, and Puck just rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He puts his arm around Kurt as they walk back to the car, but contents himself with a squeeze of the hand when they pull up back in front of Kurt's dad's shop.

"Be good," Kurt whispers as he leans back in the window.

"'M always good."

 

Puck manages to teach Hannah the basics of butterfly while they're at the pool, which he thinks is particularly impressive since he's horrible at it himself. They get back home around 3:15, and Puck sends Hannah to shower and rest before they go pick up their mom at 4:30. He plops in front of his computer and starts reading his email. Most of it's Facebook notifications and spam, but one email's from Schue, so he figures he ought to read it.

 _To: list-glee  
From: wschuest@limacity.ohio.gov_

 __Download all images? __

 _YOU'RE INVITED!!_

 _Let's get the new year off to a great start and reconnect after the summer break! Come to the choir room on Monday afternoon at 2 pm for snacks, socializing, and, of course, singing! I know we'll recreate our amazing synergy and use it to WIN NATIONALS this year! Can't wait to see all of you!!!_

 _\--Schue!_

Huh. His phone vibrates a moment later.

 _You see Schue's email?_

 _Yeah. Could he use more exclamation points_

 _Seriously. You're coming here for lunch and the three of us will go together._ A pause and then another one. _Begin as you mean to go on._

 _K. Thx :)_

 _Back to work. See you tonight_

 _C u_

Puck hits reply, because under the signature, Schue wants to make sure who is coming. He makes sure it didn't hit reply all, and types _I'll be there. Puck._ before hitting send. When he hears Hannah finish in the bathroom, he heads down the hall for his own. He finishes just in time for he and Hannah to get his mom.

His mom smiles at him gratefully when Hannah shows off her school supplies and even manages to keep smiling when she models her new Bieber-centric outfit. "Thank you, Noah," she says at the end. "Hannah seems like she had a great day."

"I think so," Puck nods. "Listen, I'm going out tonight, after dinner."

"Okay. With Finn?"

"No. I mean, I'm going out, going out. On a date." Puck rubs a hand self-consciously over his head, because even though his mom was decently awesome when he came out to her, they haven't really discussed it since.

"Ohh," and now Puck's a little scared, because it's like her face just lit up. "That's great. Who is it?"

"Kurt. You know, Finn's brother?"

"Oh, yes. He seems like a nice boy." Puck rolls his eyes behind her back. "Well, you have fun, Noah. And be back by midnight."

"Mom, I have to open in the morning. I'll be doing good to make it to 10."

"Oh, that's true." She smirks in his direction, the same smirk he sees in the mirror or on Hannah's face. "I think I love your job."

"Thanks," Puck responds sarcastically.

 

He digs through his closet after dinner, looking for a red shirt he vaguely recalls his mom buying at Target the year before. It's supposed to be a "dress shirt," according to his mom, but he rolls up the sleeves and throws it on, unbuttoned, over a wife beater and dark jeans with a relatively new looking belt. He shrugs at his reflection and pulls on a pair of relatively unscathed Cons. He's never going to be into fashion like Kurt, and told Kurt so, but he knows what looks good on him.

Puck decides that since he didn't warn Kurt about telling his mom, he'll wait outside for Kurt, because if he makes Kurt come up to the apartment, it'll turn into a big meet and greet. Which, one, then they'll miss the movie, and two, it'd totally blindside Kurt, and Puck's not cool with that.   
`  
Kurt pulls up right at 6:30 and lowers his sunglasses as he rolls down the passenger window. "Well, hello, Mr. Puckerman."

Puck smirks and stretches as he stands. "Like what you see?"

"As it happens, I do indeed."

Puck pulls open the door and swings into the seat, pulling the door shut behind him. He'd scanned the road as he walked over, so he takes the chance and leans across to give Kurt a quick kiss. "Funny," he says. "I happen to like what I see, too."

"That works out nicely, doesn't it?" Kurt replaces the sunglasses as they pull away.

"I think so."

"What did you and Hannah do this afternoon?"

"Took her swimming. She goes practically every day at camp, but it's never enough." Puck cracks a grin. "So, this morning, I take her to get her school supplies, right? And then as we're leaving, guess what she wants to buy?"

"Oh dear."

"Yeah. A Justin Bieber t-shirt," Puck groans.

"So you bought it for her."

"Well… yeah." Puck shrugs.

Kurt smiles. "That was very nice of you. Of course, I've heard that to do otherwise would have been hypocritical."

Puck groans and covers his face with his hands. "Damn. And here I hoped that maybe you'd managed to be ignorant of the brief Bieber period."

"Oh, I don't know, I suppose I can see the appeal of Bieber… to the prepubescent crowd." Kurt smirks as he pulls into the lot and kills the engine.

"Yeah, yeah," Puck grumbles as they get out and walk towards the ticket window. Puck's hand is the first to twitch. Then his arm. By the time they're halfway up the row, he shoves his hands deep into his jeans pockets, which results in him walking awkwardly.

"You okay?"

Puck grunts. "This is apparently how I stand in public now."

"Why?" Kurt quirks an eyebrow.

"For the next year, anyway."

"Oh. Ohh." Kurt nods. "The twitching, the abortive half-movements?"

"Yeah," Puck answers, both surprised and not surprised at all that Kurt knows exactly what he's talking about. They reach the line for tickets and Puck steps up to the window before Kurt can. The pimply-faced kid behind the window doesn't go to McKinley, and Puck's not sure what he would have done if he did. Since he doesn't, though, Puck just pulls out his wallet. "Two for the 7:15 showing of 30 Minutes or Less," and he slides the cash under before receiving the tickets. He turns and hands Kurt his ticket as they walk into the cold air of the lobby.

"Well, well," a familiar voice calls, and Puck and Kurt turn to see Santana standing with a girl that Puck doesn't know.

"Hello, Santana. Hello, Santana's friend." Okay, so Kurt doesn't know the girl either.

"I haven't seen either of you all summer," Santana says around the straw of the icee she's nursing. "Just the two of you tonight?"

Puck has a moment of panic, but Kurt steps in before Puck can even think of an answer. "Finn convinced us to come see 30 Minutes or Less, but then he bailed when he heard Rachel's ring tone." He rolls his eyes, and Santana nods. Anyone in New Directions would buy that, and besides. Finn probably _is_ either with Rachel or talking to her on the phone.

"God," Santana says with a shake of her head. "I don't know what he sees in that midget. I know, I know," she holds a hand up placatingly at Kurt, "she's your friend–"

"Frenemy," Kurt corrects her.

"Good point," Santana snorts. "Well, it's been cool. See you Monday."

"See you then," they echo her, and she's leading the other girl outside, holding her hand. Puck realizes that she never did introduce her friend to them.

"Definitely playing for our team," Kurt says after a moment. "Definitely."

"You think she called up 1-800-NEED-A-LEZZIE?"

Kurt laughs for a moment. "You're awful. But maybe." He finally suppresses his laughter. "I'll go get snacks. You go find us good seats?" He raises his eyebrow, and Puck smirks as he nods.

"Yeah, sure." Puck has the perfect seats in mind. Once he enters, he goes up to the end of the back row, on the side closest to the door. It's the hardest place to see for most of the theatre, and someone walking in can't see it at all. Puck sits in the seat next to the end, leaving the end for Kurt, and waits. The showing doesn't seem particularly crowded, and Puck's pretty confident that they'll be able to at least hold hands without anyone noticing, once the lights dim.

It takes five or ten minutes for Kurt to arrive, balancing a huge bucket of popcorn and a cup. "Just one drink?"

Kurt shrugs and Puck's pretty sure he's blushing a little, too. "It's free refills. I figured it just made more sense to share." He sits down and settles the 44 ounce drink between them. "We're sort of past the point of worrying about germs, Puck," he adds after a moment, a little quieter.

"Oh." Puck grins kind of stupidly. "That's true."

Kurt smiles then, too, and Puck would never tell Kurt, but Kurt's grin is a little stupid, too. They spend the time before the lights dim exchanging silly glances, looking around the theatre in a paranoid fashion periodically, and taking turns drinking pop.

And, yeah, Puck thinks it is kind of hot. When he lets go of the straw, it doesn't have time to evaporate or dry or anything before it's enveloped in Kurt's mouth, and then Kurt releases the straw back to him. It's not nearly as awesome as kissing, but since they can't kiss right now, it still gets Puck a little bothered. Especially when after five minutes or so, Kurt starts wrapping his tongue around the straw before he closes his lips over it, perfectly pursed.

"Tease," Puck whispers, which just makes Kurt blush a little and be a little more obvious the next time. Finally Puck has to adjust himself a little, and when he meets Kurt's eyes, there's a very pleased look in them.

As soon as the lights dim, their hands find each other, and Kurt leans his head against Puck's shoulder. There's no one else in their row, nor for four rows down, meaning that they are about as safe as they could possibly be, for being out in public in Lima.

Puck _tries_ to pay attention to the movie. It's moderately amusing, and he liked that Jesse guy in _The Social Network_ , but by the time they're halfway into the movie, he finally turns towards Kurt. "Are you gonna be pissed if you miss part of it?"

"Hmm?" Kurt looks towards him. "Oh." Kurt smiles. "No. We can always catch it on Netflix."

Puck grins and moves his arm to drape it around Kurt's shoulders, curling it, and Kurt with it, towards him. Kurt's mouth is already slightly parted when their lips meet, and Puck swipes at Kurt's lips with his tongue, tasting popcorn, and pop, and beneath that, just Kurt. He slips his tongue into Kurt's mouth, and he's deliberately trying to set the pace at slow and unhurried. He slides his other arm across Kurt's stomach, resting his hand against Kurt's side. Kurt's responding in the same unhurried manner, one palm resting gently on Puck's chest, the other hand sitting on Puck's knee.

Their tongues slide together, gently stroking, and then Puck feels Kurt's hand moving along his chest, almost as if seeking something. His hand slips under Puck's shirt, resting on the thin cotton of his undershirt. Puck gasps into Kurt's mouth as Kurt's fingers finally find what they were looking for and twist his nipple. Kurt breaks this kiss and Puck can make out the bright white of Kurt's teeth in the dark theatre. "Oh, you like that?" Kurt whispers, and this time captures it between his fingers, slowly increasing the pressure until he's pinching it tightly, and Puck has to dive back into Kurt's mouth, releasing his groan into it instead of the room at large.

Puck can actually feel Kurt's lips smiling against his as he releases that nipple and starts playing with the other one. Puck decides to abandon the earlier plan of slow and unhurried just as Kurt apparently gets the same memo, and their kiss becomes decidedly more heated. He feels himself growing harder and part of him can't believe that he's gotten so hard from kissing and someone touching his nipples. Even though it's ridiculously cheesy and he feels like maybe he should be in one of his sappy rom-coms, he kind of hopes that Kurt will always be able to get him hard with things that simple and that quick.

They continue kissing, still heated but a little less hurried, and when Kurt shifts, making Puck's hand fall a little lower, he lets it trail even lower, running his palm slowly down Kurt's pelvis until… _Yes. Right there._

He can feel Kurt's erection straining at the zipper, the bulge large and definitely gratifying. Puck feels like a big idiot for a few seconds, because all he can think about is who he's touching and what he's touching and he can't resist pressing a little with his open palm. Kurt's hips jerk underneath his hand, and then he's pulling out of their kiss, which leaves Puck frowning just a bit.

"Puck!" Kurt whispers, a little strained. "Are you… should we… I…"

"Shh," Puck responds, and increases the pressure a little bit. "No one can see us up here." Kurt nods, his hair brushing against Puck's head. "Feels good?" Puck stretches his thumb up to near the tip of Kurt's erection, and then trails it slowly down, back towards the base, the rest of his palm continuing to put a little extra pressure on him.

"Oh, god, yes," Kurt exhales, his voice a strangled whisper.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Kurt shakes his head, almost frantically. "No, don't stop."

"I won't," Puck breathes out, and he lets his fingers curl inward as his palm increases the pressure further. His own breath hitches when Kurt's fingers find his nipple again. "Oh, fuck. Yes."

They shift into a weird rhythm, Puck tightening and curling his hand as Kurt pulls, tweaks, twists, and occasionally pinches his nipples, each of them eliciting low moans that require deep kisses. The kisses, of course, add fuel to the fire, creating a circle of events that Puck knows can only end one of two ways.

Since this theatre is mostly empty and there are no ushers coming in to interrupt them, he's leaning towards the other ending.

And soon enough, Kurt's pulling his mouth away just a bit, breathing growing faster, his fingers prodding more insistently. Puck presses his palm down just a little harder, and drags his thumb twice up and down Kurt's length before he feels the other boy start to shudder. Quickly, before Kurt can finish the moan that's already starting to escape his mouth, Puck captures him in another kiss. Kurt stiffens and comes, but within seconds, he's responding to the kiss again, his fingers working again. Puck groans into the kiss when he realizes Kurt's determined not to stop just because he came, and soon Kurt's swallowing his moans as he shakes with his own orgasm.

Their kiss falls apart, foreheads resting together, and out of the corner of his eye, Puck checks to make sure the movie is still playing. Another minute passes and they're grinning at each other, starting to giggle quietly. "Fuck," Puck finally whispers. "You… you're amazing."

"I can't believe I just did that," Kurt admits. "I can't believe _we_ just did that."

"That was really hot." Puck reaches his hand out and cups Kurt's face, pressing soft closed-mouth kisses to Kurt's lips. Kurt's skin warms under Puck's hand, and he's sure it means Kurt's blushing.

"I think the movie's about to end," Kurt whispers a few moments later. "We should slip out and, you know." He waves his hand awkwardly. "Clean up."

"Yeah," Puck agrees regretfully, and moves his hand from Kurt's face as he sits back for a moment. "Let's go," he says with a sigh after another minute passes, and they walk quietly down the stairs and then out the door, managing to get into the restroom without directly encountering anyone. When they exit, they head for the parking lot, Puck once again resuming the awkward walk of one with both hands in his pockets.

"What time is it?" he asks once they reach Kurt's Navigator.

"Nine," Kurt responds after checking his phone. "You open in the morning, don't you?"

Puck nods regretfully. "I should try to get home by 9:30."

"Let's grab a milkshake?"

"Yes. Have you tried the marshmallow?"

"No, not yet. The mint and the raspberry are both to die for, though."

"Oh, yeah, I love the mint, too."

They go through drive-through, both for time and to avoid seeing anyone else they know, and Puck's not quite finished with his butterscotch milkshake when they pull up in front of his building.

"Stay for dinner tomorrow night?"

"Yeah. Time to 'fess up?"

Kurt nods. "You tell your mom yet?"

"Sort of," Puck makes a face. "I'll talk to her again on Friday."

"Oh, that's right, you're headed to Dayton all day." Kurt says it neutrally, but there's a disappointed look in his eye that Puck both wants to remove and is gratified to see.

"Yeah." Puck gets out of the car but leans through the window. "I'll come over Saturday after I take Hannah to temple. If you want."

"I do want," Kurt says with a small smile. "Oh, and by the way?"

"Yes?"

"That color looks good on you." Kurt smirks, the straw of his milkshake still in his mouth.

Puck grins and takes a step back. "Be good."

"I'm always good."

Somehow, Puck manages to get his brain in gear and he works on another essay for fifteen minutes before getting ready for bed. After he climbs into bed, he picks up the phone and opens a new text message. Then he stares at the screen for awhile, because he's not really sure what to say, he just knows he wants to say _something_. His eyes are starting to droop when he finally decides on something and hits send. He's asleep before the answering text even rings through.

 _Had great time tonight. Dream of me again k? xx_

 _Me too, & I will. xx_

 

Puck's shift is over at 11:30 on Thursday, and even after staying later to discuss his school year schedule with the manager, he's back home by 12:30, warming up the leftovers he didn't have to ever eat the day before.

He's got the feeling of urgency back, like he needs to hurry, but this time, at last, he's running towards something, not away from something and everything. He wants to be the first person in the door, not the first person out the door, and he's pretty sure that outwardly, it looks a lot the same, but for Puck, it feels so different that it's not anything like how he always used to be.

So when he finishes his food, he heads to his room and pulls up the Unified Application site, and actually starts filling it in. It's the basic stuff, but it's now saved in the system, and he copies and pastes the essay questions into a fresh google doc. When he shuts down his computer, it's just after 3, and he decides to go on over to the Hudmel house.

Running towards, not away.

Puck grins to himself when he turns into their driveway, because Kurt's already there, and Finn's truck is not. He knocks and a moment later, Kurt's opening the door and then tugging him inside. "Hey."

Kurt turns to him and grins as soon as he has the door locked. "Hi. We're breaking a rule, by the way."

"Oh?" Puck lets an answering grin flit on his face.

"Finn's running late, it's going to be at least twenty minutes before he gets here."

"On purpose?"

"I asked him that, too." Kurt's walking them into the living room, then pulls Puck down beside him on the couch. "He got really flustered and kept protesting, complaining about some guy named Matthew."

"So probably not on purpose."

"No."

Puck tilts his head. "When was this?"

Kurt ducks his face and mumbles. "An hour ago."

"So… you could have called me." Puck grins slowly. "You could have called me and said that we were about to break the rules, and to not come over as early." Kurt's answering squeak made Puck's grin transform into a smirk. "Fuck, Kurt."

Kurt finally raises his head and meets Puck's eyes, an embarrassed smile on his lips. "I just…" he trails off, and Puck knows there's really only so many ways that the sentence can end. He moves closer to Kurt, runs a hand through Kurt's hair, and whispers into his ear.

"Tell me what you want."

Puck watches Kurt's eyes flutter closed before he speaks. "You. Shirts off."

"Sounds good to me," Puck agrees, voice low, and he straightens for a moment, pulling off his t-shirt. "Better?" Then he looks at Kurt, and almost recoils from the strength of the look Kurt is giving him.

"Much," Kurt finally rasps out, but when he leans forward, Puck stops him.

"Uh-huh. Fair's fair," he says, gesturing to Kurt's own shirt.

"Oh," Kurt replies, "right. Sorry," and now it's Puck's turn to stare. They sit there for long seconds, just drinking each other in, before Puck slowly reaches up, brushing his fingers along Kurt's shoulders and then down, brushing one nipple barely with his pinkie, following the sprinkling of chest hair lower, dipping his finger into Kurt's navel and then circling it. Then Kurt's stopping his hand, taking it in his own, and raising it to his mouth. _Oh._ Kurt's mirroring Puck's previous actions, but slowly kissing the tips of Puck's fingers as well.

"What do _you_ want?" Kurt finally asks.

Puck flushes and now it's he who isn't meeting Kurt's eyes. "Your hand," he finally gets out, biting his lip.

"My hand?" Kurt questions, and slowly strokes Puck's chest. "Where, Puck?" When Puck doesn't answer, Kurt asks again, leaning so that his mouth is against Puck's ear. "Where, baby?"

"Nggh," Puck exhales at the sound of Kurt's voice and the pet name–one he never thought he'd like, no less–and finally grinds out his answer. "My cock."

"Ohhh," Kurt responds, breath still skating over Puck's ear. "Undo your jeans."

Puck fumbles with the zipper but manages to free himself within thirty seconds, and then his hand is being gently removed. "No touching yourself," Kurt admonishes, and Puck's rejoinder is lost when Kurt's hand closes around his cock for the first time. His hands flail and finally ball in his discarded t-shirt. "Oh, _fuck_ ," he hisses as Kurt's hand slides, feather-light, up and down his erection.

"That's right, baby," Kurt murmurs, and now he's up on his knees, crouched over Puck, keeping his mouth next to Puck's ear. He moves his thumb around the tip, then tightens his grip as he spreads the leaking fluid up Puck's length. "God, you're so big, Puck. So hard."

"Hard… for you," Puck manages to gasp out, and he knows it's absolutely the best thing he could have said, because Kurt's face lights up, and he speeds his hand up. "Oh, god, Kurt. _Kurt_. Please… not going to last…"

Puck feels like he should probably be ashamed of reaching the brink so fast, but this is _Kurt_ and he just closes his eyes, thrusting into Kurt's hand. "Good," Kurt's whisper is satisfied. "Come for me, Puck," he says a minute later, and then Puck lets his head fall to the side as he comes hard into Kurt's hand, wailing Kurt's name as he comes.

When he opens his eyes, it's to the sight of Kurt sitting back on his heels, taking a tentative lick of his hand. "Ohh, fuck, are you…?"

"Mmm-hmm," Kurt acknowledges, tongue swiping down into one of the crevices of his hand to make it clean. Then he extends his hand to Puck, a small smile on his face. "I'll share, though."

Puck can't back down from the challenge that's lurking in Kurt's eyes, so he takes Kurt's hand and licks himself off the other boy's fingers. Kurt moans after just a moment, and when Puck judges Kurt's hand to be cleaned, he tugs on it, pulling the other boy on top of him and into a deep kiss. He can taste himself on Kurt's tongue and he thought that would be a little bit weird and maybe even gross, but now experiencing it, he only finds it incredibly hot. He's more than a little sad when Kurt sits up and quickly fixes Puck's jeans, then pulls on his own shirt. He stands and leans over to kiss Puck again, then steps into the kitchen.

Puck sits up hurriedly and follows him. "Wha–?"

"Finn's home," Kurt explains. "Here, have a pop." He pulls out two root beers and hands one to Puck.

"What about my shirt?"

Kurt shrugs. "I may have, in fact, confiscated it until such time as we eat dinner. Or my father gets home."

Puck narrows his eyes, then grins. "You just want to see me without a shirt on."

"Maybe," Kurt smirks, and then turns towards the hallway as the door opens. "Hello, Finn," he calls loudly.

"Hey," Finn responds as he steps into the kitchen, and Kurt hands him a third root beer. "Puck." He furrows his brow as he looks at his friend and his brother, and then shakes his head. "I don't think I want to know."

Puck can't resist smirking, but Kurt just rolls his eyes. "I'll be upstairs," he says as he finishes his root beer. "Have fun shooting each other."

Finn and Puck settle in front of the television with their controllers, and like always, Puck hears the shower start. Now, though, he's picturing Kurt's bare chest with water rolling down it, and he knows before they even hit start that he's not going to be winning today. The feeling only intensifies when he realizes that Kurt's probably masturbating, because he got Puck off, but Puck didn't return the favor. He lets out an audible groan, and lets his head hit the back of the couch.

"What's wrong?" Finn turns to look at him, face concerned.

"I'm an idiot. Nothing new," Puck snorts, but doesn't elaborate, because there are some things you _don't_ share. Especially not with Kurt's brother. "Maybe we should watch a movie today."

"Oh. Okay," Finn shrugs and kills the game system power. "What sounds good?"

Puck just shrugs. "Whatever."

"Okay," Finn agrees and goes to flip through the DVDs. "Hey, Kurt said you went to see 30 Minutes or Less last night, how was it?"

"Uh." Puck's probably turning reddish again. "Good. Y'know. Funny. It has that guy from _Zombieland_ in it."

"Oh, yeah," Finn nods, then holds up the case for _Tin Cup_. "How's this?"

"Sure," Puck shrugs, and Finn sets it up while Puck climbs out of the floor and stretches across the couch. They're about ten minutes into the movie when Kurt appears downstairs and peeks in.

"Oh, _Tin Cup_ ," he notes. "Finn's choice, I take it," and both nod. Puck shifts so he's taking up less room on the couch, closer to sitting up, and Kurt crosses the room, sitting down beside him. Finn glances over at them and apparently deems them a safe distance apart, because his attention turns back to the movie almost immediately. Puck shifts again, and whispers in Kurt's ear.

"I'm sorry,"

Kurt tilts his head and looks at him quizzically. "For what?" he murmurs.

"I kind of left you hanging."

Kurt stares at him for a moment and then smiles. "I knew we didn't have much time," he explains. "I'm fine. Really." He touches his finger to Puck's lips. "But thank you for your consideration."

As the movie progresses, they shift position, and once when Puck shivers, Kurt returns his t-shirt. When Burt enters the house, they're engrossed in the movie, and Puck and Kurt are taking up less than two-thirds of the couch, arms around each other.

Burt appears in the doorway like an apparition. "Movie tonight, boys?"

Kurt starts, and Puck starts to pull away a little, but Kurt tightens his own arms almost imperceptibly and Puck relaxes. "Yeah, _Tin Cup_ ," Finn responds.

Burt nods. "You're staying for dinner, Puckerman?"

"Yes, sir. Mrs. H said it was fine."

"All right." He turns to head upstairs, but then turns back. "Kurt. You two dating?"

Kurt flushes, and Puck's pretty sure he does, too, but Kurt just nods, head held high.

Burt nods. "Thought so." Then he continues up the stairs without further comment.

Puck turns to Kurt with a quizzical expression on his face, but Kurt just shrugs. "I told you he was asking questions yesterday at the shop," he finally mutters. "And then we went out last night, plus right now…" Kurt lets his voice trail off, and Puck nods.

The movie is long, and Puck's seen it at least a couple of times. He figures Burt sort of gave his approval, and he ducks his head to kiss Kurt's neck. Kurt obligingly tilts his head, giving Puck better access. "Careful," he hisses after a moment. "No more marks."

"Yet," Puck murmurs into Kurt's ear. He runs a finger along the fading spot. "'S not gone yet." He nips at Kurt's earlobe then drags his mouth down along to the back of Kurt's neck, kissing and then licking his way up and down Kurt's spine.

He's just working his way back along Kurt's jaw to his mouth when they get hit with a throw pillow.

"Stop it, you two," Finn orders, but Puck's pretty sure that's amusement he hears in Finn's voice. "Can you not keep your mouths to yourselves for a couple of hours?"

"No," Kurt retorts, then blushes a fiery red at his very prompt response, and Puck smirks in agreement when Finn looks over.

Finn rolls his eyes. "Nevermind. Just… Burt's upstairs, and Mom'll be home in five minutes." He turns his attention back to the movie, and Kurt grabs the throw pillow that fell onto the floor and puts it on the couch beside them. He's got his mouth pinched up tightly, but Puck can see the small dimple in his cheek, and he grins a little.

He wants moments like these, so badly. Minus Finn, that is. Sitting together, watching television or a movie, letting their minds (and hands and mouths) wander if they choose, small nearly secret smiles; Puck's unbelievably attracted to Kurt physically, but it's his presence that he wants more than anything. He snags Kurt's hand in his and shoots a sidelong smile at Kurt as their fingers wrap around each other.

As much as he wants to keep kissing Kurt, he could happily sit like this all day.

They're still holding hands when Carole comes in the house and smiles, and when Burt comes back downstairs to cook dinner. When Burt says dinner's ready, Kurt stands without letting go of Puck's hand, and Puck can't resist a quick kiss while everyone's back is turned. They don't let their hands drop until they're sitting down at the table.

The first minutes of the meal are filled with small talk about everyone's day. Carole shares a funny story about a co-worker, and Finn grumbles about the guy named Matthew that apparently screwed up his day. Before long, Kurt's coaxing Puck to tell everyone else about the 9:04 man.

"The 9:04 man?" Burt asks, forehead wrinkling a little.

"Yeah, he comes in the shop by 8:55 every morning," Puck explains. "In case there's a line. He orders the same thing every day–a grande Americano. But he has to receive it in the sixty seconds when it's 9:04 am. It's some kind of Rainman thing, I guess. So this one day, during Kelly's first week, it's really busy, and I didn't think about it when I saw the cup. I go ahead and fix the Americano, and I'm about to call it out, when I glance at the clock. It's 9:02." Puck stops and takes a drink. "But he notices anyway, and suddenly, he's going off. 'You've made my coffee too early. Now it will be cold when I drink it. COLD!' Now, an Americano means _boiling_ water," Puck elaborates, because he can tell Kurt's the only one who fully understands the situation. "It's not even going to be drinkable in two minutes. Normally he gets the coffee at 9:04 and sits with it in front of him for five minutes before taking a sip. But I just made another one, and handed it to him at 9:04 am. That was the day we started writing '9:04' on his cup, instead of the order." They're all laughing, and Kurt grins at Puck, nudging his shoulder softly.

The conversation moves on, and everyone's nearly finished eating when Burt clears his throat during a lull in the conversation. "So, Puckerman. What exactly are your intentions towards my son?"

Puck starts, then purses his lips and frowns. Kurt's hand finds his under the table, squeezing his fingers gently. Puck finally clears his own throat. "With all due respect, sir, that's a bit personal to discuss at the dinner table. Kurt knows," and he returns the squeeze. "I think it's up to Kurt if he wants to discuss it with you later."

Puck holds his breath, just a little, as he waits for Burt to react. He's not trying to be impertinent, but he's telling the truth. It doesn't feel right to discuss it right there. It's not that he doesn't like Finn, or Carole, or even Burt himself, but what he feels for Kurt is for Kurt to know about, and whoever Kurt wants to tell. Beside him, Kurt's nodding his agreement, and Finn looks more than a little relieved.

"Hmm," Burt finally says with a slow nod of his head. "All right. You've got a point," he adds, and claps Puck on the shoulder as he stands to clear the table. "You can help Kurt do the dishes."

"Yes, sir," Puck quickly responds, and that's how he finds himself with his hands deep in a hot, soapy water five minutes later. Kurt turns on the radio while they work, drying and putting away what Puck washes, since apparently the dishwasher was already nearly full. After they finish, Kurt starts the dishwasher, then leans against it, beckoning Puck towards him.

"I need to take you home soon," he murmurs, lips close to Puck's. "I don't want to." He trails a finger down Puck's chest, stopping just before the top of his jeans. "I'll miss you tomorrow. Text me?"

Puck nods, tucking a stray hair behind Kurt's ear. "I'll send you a picture from the changing room, how's that?" he offers with a grin.

Kurt nods, eyes sparkling, and then finally closes the distance between them with a soft, small kiss. "Good," he agrees.


	5. Intrusions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer's ending; enter the real world.

Puck's up at seven, hoping to beat Hannah to the bathroom, and manages it by just over a minute. They're all ready to leave just a little after eight, which means they pull into the Target parking lot around 9:30. His mom grabs a shopping cart, and raises her eyebrows when he pulls one out. He just meets her gaze, and after a moment, she shrugs and they head towards the girls' clothing section. They grab a stack of brightly colored solid t-shirts in various colors, leggings that Puck thinks don't really match any of the t-shirts, and jeans. Hannah picks out a few dresses next, and then Puck starts to get involved.

"Too short."

Hannah sighs. "This one?"

"Too low-cut."

"This one?"

"Too short AND too low-cut."

"Fine! This one?"

"Too many sequins. And that fabric will rip."

She huffs, exasperated. "Fine! You pick something out."

"Okay," Puck meets her challenge. "I will." He turns to the rack of dresses and finally manages to find one that meets _his_ idea of what his little sister should wear as well as _her_ idea of what will be "cool" this year. "There." He tosses it into the cart with a smirk. "And we'll look at the mall this afternoon for another one."

Hannah rolls her eyes, but doesn't complain, which Puck figures means she actually did like the dress he picked out. Then it's onwards to the not-plain t-shirts, underwear, and socks. Puck's leaning against a pole, bored, when his mom finally announces that it's time to go look for shoes. They find a pair Hannah likes quickly, and his mom gets a pair in her current size as well as the next size up. Then it's Puck's turn to be shod, despite his objections.

"I'm gonna get some new Cons at the mall, Mom."

"What about sneakers for football practice? You should have a new pair for running and football."

Puck sighs, and picks out a pair, adding them to her cart. He knows that on some level his mom hates that he helps out and buys so much of his own stuff now, but why wouldn't he? Then they go into the men's section, where Hannah immediately begins to sigh loudly and complain about how _absolutely boring_ boys' clothes are.

Puck just rolls his eyes when his mom insists he buy more underwear. Yeah, he doesn't go commando all the time, especially not at work, but he knows that he doesn't need eight more pairs.

Especially since they're all kind of boring. Unlike the Star Wars ones.

He does grab more wife beaters and socks without complaint, and throws three more black polo shirts into his cart. "Why so many, Noah?" Hannah asks, finally showing some interest.

"Work, squirt."

"Oh, yeah." She wrinkles her nose. "You should get some pants just for work, since it all ends up smelling like coffee."

"Good point." It is, because even his backpack reeks of coffee these days. Luckily, he _likes_ coffee, but Hannah's still raised an important consideration, and he dumps three of the cheapest pairs of khaki pants he can find in his cart, too. Then his mom insists he pick out several solid color t-shirts, some jeans, and some solid color shirts that she calls "casual button-downs," and Puck thinks that there's probably some fancier term for it, but doesn't argue.

After that, she starts arguing about what size he needs. "That'll be too tight on you, Noah," she insists, and Puck shakes his head no.

"It'll be fine."

"No, it won't, it'll…" She stops mind-sentence and purses her lips, then dumps a pile of shirts and jeans in his arms. "Fine. Go try them on."

Puck takes advantage of her sudden acquiesce to head to the changing rooms, and when he puts on the first outfit, he thinks that maybe they were both right. The shirt _is_ a little tight, but he has no intention of ever doing the top two or three buttons, and it looks good on him. He's about to take it off when he remembers what he told Kurt the day before and pulls out his phone, snapping a shot of himself in the mirror and then texting it to Kurt. He's barely pulled on the graphic tee that his mom also insisted was "too small" (and she's probably got a point, Puck concedes, but he's buying it anyway. The rest of his t-shirts are pretty baggy) when his phone buzzes.

 _I'm not sure if that shirt is a very good idea or a very bad one…_

 _There's more where that came from_ Puck types, and takes another pic, sending it as well.

 _Dear god. Please tell me you're buying a few things that aren't that tight. So I can concentrate at school._

Puck laughs and grins, smug. _No worries, most of it's 'normal.'_

 _Have a good time the rest of the day xx_

 _K. xx_

He picks out a couple of flannel shirts at his mom's insistence, and then as they're leaving the men's section, he grabs a t-shirt with a list of the ten reasons Kirk is more awesome than Picard. Puck's going to add it to a rapidly growing stash of t-shirts that he wants to wear once he's out of Lima. He managed to snag one of the Pride t-shirts from Old Navy on ebay a month ago, and with the one today, the stash is up to five t-shirts. If he's also added a few pairs of jeans that aren't from Target or Kmart, no one but Kurt knows, and very few people probably realize.

They nearly get sidetracked in the toy department, but between Puck and his mom they get Hannah to the sporting goods, to get her new shin guards, three pairs of soccer socks, and a new ball. It takes fifteen more minutes for Hannah to pick out a new backpack, and when she's done, Puck's mom turns to him. "You should pick one out, too," she says. "I know you're probably going to buy a new one for college next year, but Hannah was right. Everything you've taken to work smells like coffee now."

Puck shrugs and gives in, finding a plain grey and black one that's just a little bigger than his old one. It seems like the material is a little thicker and a little more durable, and he lets his mom buy it without protest, despite the peek he took at the price tag. It has a place for a non-existent laptop, but that just gives him more room to store crap.

They're circling around to the front of the store when Puck remembers what else he planned to get, and he turns into the office supply aisles, scanning them quickly.

"What are you looking for, Noah?"

"These," he explains, holding them a quintet of black books triumphantly. The Barnes & Noble in Lima carried Moleskine, but not the creativity journals, and he'd filled his first one within three weeks. This time, Target had two sizes, the large one he'd gotten before, and a slightly smaller one. Puck's grabbed all five of them–two large, three small–and he thinks the smaller size will be good for keeping in his backpack. He throws them in his cart, and then they wander through the kitchenware and housewares.

Puck wonders absently if prices are the same at every Target, or if Targets in New York City charge more money for the same products. And if Target does charge more in New York City, does that mean crap should be bought in Ohio, dragging it across Pennsylvania one way or another? Puck files the question in the back of his head to ask Kurt. Or maybe Ms. Pillsbury. Or maybe both, because it's not like Kurt's actually been to New York more than Puck.

Finally, his mom leads them towards the check-out, his and Hannah's stomachs rumbling. Puck can't help but wince a little when he hands over his debit card, even though he knows in the back of his head that there's plenty more sitting in his account. He buys Hannah a chocolate milk from the in-store Starbucks while his mom pays for the rest of the stuff, and they discuss where they should go eat.

Hannah wants Waffle House at first, but soon Puck convinces her that they should go to Steak 'N Shake instead. When his mom joins them, she tries to make an argument for White Castle, but they quickly overrule her and head for Steak 'N Shake.

They're halfway through their meal when his mom makes a disappointed noise. "Oh, Noah, we should have gotten you some new dress slacks and a sport coat. Maybe another dress shirt or two."

"I got two black ones," Puck points out, but the truth is, he did that because that's what they usually wear for performances or competitions for New Directions.

"Yes, but still… you're old enough you might need an actual suit look."

Puck snorts, because he's imagining the look on Kurt's face if he told him he had a suit, or even a sport coat, from Target.

"What?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," Puck says before he can think about what he's saying. "I think Kurt'd have a heart attack if I tried to claim Target sold a suit."

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he knows that his mom is a little confused. In her mind, Puck's been out on one date with Kurt.

In Puck's mind, it's just a matter of time before Kurt gives in, convinced. In Puck's mind, there's not going to be anyone else. Ever.

There's an awkward silence for a few moments before Hannah fills it. "I like Kurt. He's funny. Even if sometimes he dresses funny." Then she keeps talking, and Puck wants to let out a silent groan. "But he looked normal on Wednesday at lunch. Is it because he was working?"

Puck winces and runs his hands over his head before meeting his mom's eyes. "Noah," she finally says. "Explain?"

"Um. Hannah and I took our lunch over to the park with Kurt, on Wednesday."

"I gathered that," his mother sighed. "Why?"

"Why not?" Hannah pipes up again. "Noah's dating Kurt. I didn't believe them at first," she confesses to their mom. "But then I told them to kiss and they did."

Now Puck's groan is not so silent.

"Noah Puckerman! What were you thinking?"

He raises his hands defensively. "We didn't _do_ anything. We just kissed."

"It was sweet!"

"Oh, Noah," his mom is shaking her head. "You didn't tell me you were _dating_ Kurt. Just that you were going on a date."

Puck shrugs, because he's not sure how to define what he and Kurt have. "Dating" worked fine with Burt & Carole, especially because what they are to each other is less solid in Kurt's mind than in Puck's. Puck wants to call Kurt his boyfriend, or maybe his partner, but partner seems like a grown-up word, a word they haven't quite earned yet. In another year, maybe, when they're out of Lima, but not now. "He's… Kurt." Puck shrugs again and meets his mother's eyes. She seems to be searching his for a long moment, then nods.

"All right." She sighs, and Puck can almost read her thoughts, that she's losing her baby to another city and someone else at the same time. They fall silent for the remainder of the meal, and then head towards the Dayton Mall.

Puck's main agenda for the mall is to pick up Cons for himself and Hannah, except now he's promised Hannah a dress, too. If he's honest with himself, he wants to get a pair or two of jeans, too.

And, of course, his mom wants to at least get him some slacks.

He steers Hannah and his mom towards the Gap, first, because he's pretty sure he can find a nice dress for Hannah there. He ends up buying her an outfit that Kurt would love, he's pretty sure (skirt, shirt, and tie), along with a dress, too.

His mom insists that shoes come next, in case they run out of time, and Hannah finally settles on green Cons, while Puck sticks with his favorite black.

"Now we're going here," Hannah announces brightly, stopping in front of Express Men, and with a glance at his mom, Puck knows he's working with two against one, so he just shrugs and goes along. His mom pulls him to the dress pants, and tries to hand him relaxed fit grey pants. Puck shakes his head and reaches for the slim fit pants in black. They engage in a silent staring war before Hannah points out that "those pants look hard to dance in, Noah, if you're going to wear them for glee club." Puck frowns and reaches for the in-between style, grabbing two pairs of black and one of a light silver-grey. Then he raises his eyebrows and defiantly grabs the tighter black ones.

"I'm not _always_ dancing when I'm dressed up, you know," he says with a smirk as he disappears into the changing room. He resists the urge to take another photo and send it to Kurt, and hands all four pairs to his mom when he emerges. "They all work," he reports, then grabs another t-shirt that grabs his attention. This one's got the skyline of New York, and he knows that sometimes, he's going to need a little reminder during the year.

Hannah pulls him towards the dress shirts, trying to get him to let her pick out at least one color, but Puck puts her off. They're on sale, BOGO, and so Puck ends up with four. Another black one, a dark red one, plus his mom picks out a blue one and a grey one. He lets his mom pay for all of it, feeling a little guilty but wanting to save his cash for more jeans.

He's tired of not being himself, and if he can't wear that stash of t-shirts in his drawer at home, at least he can wear a plain shirt that shows off his guns.

Hannah's whiny, so Puck suggests that they go to the food court and have cinnamon rolls, which they do. Then Hannah wants to go look around Justice, but fails to convince either Puck or their mom to buy anything from the store. Puck's distracted from his goal of jeans by the larger goal represented by Guitar Center, and he splits from his mom and sister while he pokes around the store. When he's finished, he has thirty minutes before he's supposed to meet the two of them, and decides it's the perfect chance to buy jeans. He doesn't want yet another staring contest with his mom, and anyway, if she saw how much he's willing to pay for jeans, she'd flip out.

"There are perfectly acceptable jeans for less than $30 at Target and Old Navy, Noah!" is what she'd probably say, and Puck's not eager to have a debate about how much he's willing to pay for jeans. The way he figures it, he wears jeans more than anything else, so if it's okay to pay $50 or more for slacks, why not nice jeans? And sure, maybe there are better uses for his money, but he's not sure what, exactly, they would be. He spends a little more than he intends and resolves to ask for a few more hours in the first month or so of school, before glee club and football both really pick up.

He sits at the center of the mall and muses about the next few months. He's not sure when he and Kurt will see each other without the rest of glee club around, most of the time. They're both taking dual enrollment classes on Monday/Wednesday/Friday, and Kurt's already agreed to give Puck a ride. Until football's over, though, Puck's time is going to be limited, and he knows Kurt's going to be studying for those mechanic tests or whatever they are.

And he's spending the last Friday of summer in Dayton without Kurt. He sighs but quickly shifts his facial expression as his mom and sister approach.

"Ready for dinner? Then we should head home."

"Yeah," Puck agrees, standing. "How about Panera? My treat."

Hannah enthusiastically agrees, and his mom nods, and they head from the mall at close to 6 pm.

 

It's after 8 pm before they reach Lima, and it takes another half-hour to unload all their bags, take the tags off, and put everything away. Puck's absently thankful for the Christian girl that started working at Starbucks, because it means she gets to open on Saturday morning, and he gets to sleep in, at least a bit.

"Let's all go to temple in the morning," Puck's mom suggests as they finish putting everything away. "We'll pick up your nana on the way."

"Okay," Puck agrees, because he'd been planning on taking Hannah again, anyway.

"Okay, Hannah?"

"Sure, Mom." Hannah yawns in the middle of asking if she can stay up late, and she's hustled off to bed posthaste.

Puck sits in front of his computer and reads his email absently for awhile, checking Facebook and generally wasting time until he's tired enough to go to bed. It occurs to him to call up Kurt, but he's feeling more vulnerable than he likes. That, and he's pretty sure Kurt had managed to sync up his schedule with Mercedes for the first time in over a month, and he doesn't really want to interrupt them.

Puck finally goes to bed around 11, more out of boredom than anything else, and his phone lights up just as he turns off the lamp.

 _Hope you had a good day. Give me a fashion show sometime? See you tomorrow xx_

Puck grins and grabs the phone to reply.

 _Anytime. Can't wait xxx_

 

Puck's sitting in his room after temple and lunch, waiting for it to be 1:30 pm, when his phone rings. He picks it up and frowns a little. He and Finn don't usually call each other. "'Sup?"

"Hey, Puck!" Finn's voice is a little too loud and a little too bright. "So, Rachel's over here, and she thought it would be a great idea to have a little, uh, glee club get together! Here! This afternoon!"

 _Ohhh_. "She's listening now, dude?" Puck chuckles.

"Yes! So she said you should bring stuff about your college choices or something. Um. Maybe you don't want to walk all the way here? I could ask Kurt to give you a ride!"

Before Puck can answer, he hears Rachel's voice in the background. "Finn, that's not very nice of you to ask of Kurt! I need to have a very important discussion with Kurt about colleges in New York City!" Then Rachel's voice is getting closer and closer. "Hello Noah! Finn's going to come pick you up in just a few minutes. Print out everything you have about the colleges you are interested in applying for, if you've had the opportunity to put that on your agenda this summer."

"Uh. Hi, Rachel. How are you? Good to talk to you. Hope you had a great summer. See you in a few minutes. Can you hand me back to Finn now?"

"Of course!" There's more shuffling, and Finn whispering about something.

"Hey, uh. Sorry about this, man."

"Yeah, whatever." Puck sighs. "Just come pick me up, I guess. I'll head on downstairs." Puck ends the call and looks at google docs for a minute. No way is he wasting printer ink for stuff he can access anywhere with internet. Not to mention he has most of the information stored in his head.

He grabs his phone and wallet and looks at himself in the mirror for a moment. Oh well. Kurt'll still appreciate how he looks. He's wearing the tighter t-shirt from Target and one of his new pairs of the jeans from the mall. He heads down the hall and stops in the living room. "I'm going over to Kurt's," he announces. "I'll be back later; not sure if it'll be before or after dinner."

"Okay, Noah. Have fun."

"Bye, Noah," Hannah echoes, and for a minute Puck would rather stay and watch _High School Musical_ with them than go hang out with Rachel. The minute passes, though, and he heads out the door and downstairs.

He only waits for a few minutes before Finn pulls up in his truck, and he's apologizing before Puck has the door closed again. "Sorry, dude. I tried to talk her out of it, and Kurt did, too, but…" He shrugs, as if that can explain Rachel Berry. Then again, maybe it does.

"Not exactly what I planned for the afternoon," Puck acknowledges. "Not your fault, though. I guess," he adds with a half-hearted smirk.

"Don't you start sulking, too."

Puck raises an eyebrow. "Kurt's sulking?"

"He's trying very hard not to let it show, because of Rachel, but yeah. I figured you guys had plans." Puck nods once. "Oh, you didn't bring any college stuff, Rachel's gonna flip."

"Chill, dude. All my stuff's in google docs. Why would I waste printer ink?"

"Oh. Cool."

Puck swings out of the truck as soon as Finn comes to a stop, vaguely hoping that maybe he can corner Kurt before Rachel realizes he's there.

His hopes are dashed when they enter the house, though, and Burt gives him a sympathetic look from the living room. "They're in the kitchen, Puckerman."

Puck nods his acknowledgement and manages to stand in the doorway unobserved for a few moments. Rachel's carrying on animatedly about something, and Kurt's propped on one elbow, clearly unimpressed. Puck lets his eyes sweep over Kurt anyway, and then Finn's standing beside him. Puck has the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that they're each leering at their respective SO, so he steps into the kitchen.

"Noah!" Rachel springs up. "It's so good to see you! Have you had a good summer?" She grabs his arm and tugs him towards the table, pushing him into a chair which, thankfully, is next to Kurt. "You're looking particularly nice today."

Puck cuts his gaze towards Kurt, who definitely looks appreciative, and smirks a little in acknowledgement. "So what's going on?"

"I tried to get some of the others here, but it seems that many of them are busy. I thought that it would be an exceptional idea if we were to share some of our plans for college applications and auditions." She peers at Puck. "You didn't bring anything with you. I understand that college isn't for everyone, but you should really plan for all possibilities at this stage in your life."

Puck gives her a hard stare. "You're a bitch, you know that? I didn't bring anything with me because I didn't want to waster printer ink when I knew I could call it up on google docs on Kurt's laptop."

"Well." Rachel has the grace to look a little embarrassed, but mostly just looks flustered. "That was rather presumptuous of you, wasn't it, to assume Kurt would look up your documents on his laptop?"

Puck rolls his eyes and turns towards Kurt. He takes advantage of the moment to put his hand on Kurt's knee. "Kurt," he begins in an exaggeratedly polite tone, "would you be so kind as to call up my shit on your laptop?"

Kurt's got a small smirk playing at his lips as he pats Puck's hand. "Why certainly, Puck," he answers, and smiles widely, just a hint of sharpness playing at the edges when his gaze shifts to Rachel. "Why don't you help me go get it?"

"Sure," Puck responds, jumping up before Rachel can invent yet another reason why he shouldn't be alone with Kurt today. They hurry out of the kitchen and onto the stairs, their fingers intertwining as they reach the landing. When they reach Kurt's room, Puck finds himself with an armful of Kurt, and then they're frantically, hurriedly kissing. It's a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues clashing rather than dancing, and too soon, they're pulling apart, but Puck keeps his arms around Kurt's waist.

"God, that girl is annoying," Kurt mutters. "That was _not_ how I wanted to spend the afternoon."

"Oh, yeah?" Puck grins. "And how _did_ you want to spend the afternoon?"

"More like this."

"I approve of that." Then they're kissing again, getting increasingly heated, when they hear Rachel screeching.

"Boys? What's taking so long?"

"Shit," Kurt voices for both of them as they break apart, and he turns, unplugging his laptop and closing it in one motion. "Coming, Rachel," he raises his voice, and they clatter back down the stairs.

Finn raises an eyebrow at Puck, but he just shrugs with an innocent look. There's only so much a guy can put up with, after all.

"Oh, good," Rachel exclaims brightly. "Now, I don't know that you've put as much thought into your choices as, say, Kurt or I have, but I think it could be quite good for all of us to compare notes." She beams, waiting for approval, which Finn gives in the form of a somewhat enthusiastic nod. "Now, here we have my list." She smooths a piece of pink lined paper, decorated with five gold stars. "Juilliard, of course, and NYU are on my list. I've also included Indiana University as a 'fallback option,' at Ms. Pillsbury's insistence." She makes air quotes as she says "fallback option." "Then, I'm also considering applying to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts, as well as Barnard." She concludes with a beaming smile, clearly waiting for approbation.

"That's great, Rach," Finn says with a dopey smile, staring into her eyes. Puck turns to Kurt and they roll their eyes simultaneously.

"Now! What about you, Finn?" Rachel continues.

"Um, well, Coach Beiste says I have a shot at a partial ride with Michigan State, so that'd be awesome." Puck nods, because Finn had mentioned it a week or two ago. "And then OSU. That's really it right now." He shrugs uncomfortably.

"Maybe you should consider finding a few other schools that might offer you a football scholarship," Rachel offers. "I'm sure there are plenty. Kurt, what's a school near the city that has a good football program?"

"Penn State's four hours from the city," Puck offers, earning a surprised look from Rachel and a smug one from Kurt. "Fordham's in the Bronx. Nothing much of note in Connecticut. New Englanders don't do football all that well."

By now Rachel's mouth has formed a tiny surprised 'O.'

"Yeah, maybe I'll look at those," Finn interjects, nodding with a small smile at Puck.

"Good, then," Rachel pulls herself together. "Now, Kurt, what about you?"

Kurt sighs a bit dramatically, and Puck's sort of fascinated by the partial transformation Kurt makes from how he's been all summer and how he is around anyone else from school. He noticed it with Santana the other night, and now here it is again with Rachel. "At the moment, Hunter College is my at least I'm getting out of Lima school." He smirks with a small simper. "I'm still trying to decide about NYU. The average debt load at NYU is extraordinarily high, and I'm not sure their department is exactly what I'm looking for, as it is. I'm applying to Pace, as well, but at the moment Marymount Manhattan is looking like an excellent choice." He finishes with a little flourish and takes a sip from the bottle of water sitting in front of him.

Puck can tell that Rachel's secretly excited that Kurt's not sure about NYU, even though she's nodding and agreeing with Kurt's assessment of schools that would provide a good fit for him. He wants to roll his eyes, and he's really regretting agreeing to this little tete a tete.

"Now, then, Noah. What about you? Are you going to stay local or apply to one of the state universities?"

Puck just stares at her for a long beat. "Way to assume, Berry," he finally grinds out, and he registers Kurt giving Rachel a hard look. Even Finn looks vaguely embarrassed. "I'm getting out of this shithole town and this shithole state."

"Oh, well. Where are you looking?"

Puck almost gives her credit for recovering so quickly–almost.

"Pillsbury suggested Hunter to me, too," Puck replies with a nod in Kurt's direction. "Mannes. MSM. Not going to waste my money on anything else unless Hunter says no. They're rolling admissions," he continues, when he sees a strange look on Rachel's face. "See, that's where they evaluate your application as soon as you receive it, and you get a nice letter that says 'Congratulations, You're Leaving Lima!' nice and early in your senior year." He smirks meanly in her direction as he finishes.

"You–you're applying to Mannes and MSM?" She sounds confused. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Noah? That's a lot of time and money to waste on application fees and auditions."

There's absolute silence in the kitchen for a minute after she finishes speaking. Then Puck pushes back from his chair, his hand trailing against Kurt's forearm for just a moment. "I'm done here," he grinds out, heading for the door. He doesn't see Finn and Kurt make eye contact, but he does hear them as he walks from the kitchen.

"RACHEL!" Kurt's tone is harsh and angry, and Puck feels a tiny surge of satisfaction at hearing it, amidst the burning anger and hurt.

"Wait, Puck!" He hears Finn hurrying after him, and he knows that the damn Munsters must've somehow coordinated this in a split second. He stops on the front porch and waits for Finn to appear.

"Your girlfriend's a bitch, Hudson."

"I–yeah," Finn admits quietly. "Look, you know I don't agree with her. You know Kurt doesn't agree with her."

"And everyone else is going to agree with her," Puck adds bitterly.

"I–I don't know."

"Yeah, well, I'll tell you what I know. I'm going to get out of this place, and right now, I'm tempted to sabotage all her fucking applications! Let's she how she likes being a Lima Loser." Puck kicks the floor of the porch, scowling.

Finn doesn't seem to know how to reply to that, because he doesn't say anything for a long moment. They can hear Kurt screaming, and then Burt's lower tones breaking in. "C'mon," Finn says at last. "I'll try to get her out of here, or something."

Puck's still frowning, but he follows Finn back into the house, and then trails him into the kitchen. Kurt's staring at Rachel, looking absolutely livid, and Burt doesn't look happier with her. She's still wide-eyed, but there are a few tears trailing down her cheeks. Puck shakes his head; he's pretty sure she's faking the tears or the wide-eyed innocence, or maybe both.

Kurt's hard stare slips a little as he glances at Puck, and Puck recognizes the twitch of the arm and the abortive step.

"Now, the way I see it, you're both my guests," Burt is saying, and he gives Puck a sidelong glance. "And I didn't hear everything that was said, but what I did hear, Rachel, didn't sound particularly supportive." Burt fixes her with a stare.

"I… I only thought…"

"You think, present tense, that I'm stupid and incapable," Puck snarls.

Rachel's face falls, but there's no immediate denial, and Puck can feel his jaw tighten.

"I think," Burt says slowly, "that everyone needs to calm down a little." He glances between his two sons, then between Rachel and Puck. "Finn, Rachel, go in the living room. Kurt, Puck, you go upstairs." He waits until Rachel slinks out of the kitchen to fix Puck with a stare and mutter "Door open," to Kurt, who nods, then steps close to Puck.

"C'mon," Kurt says quietly, arm around Puck's shoulders, leading him upstairs. They sit down heavily on Kurt's bed, and Puck's feeling too awful to do anything but lean on Kurt. "Puck. I. Dammit."

Puck just nods.

"She doesn't know _anything_ ," Kurt continues fiercely. "Nothing."

"I just want to punch her," Puck admits.

"The thought occurred to me," Kurt agrees, and they share a brief laugh.

"An apology isn't going to fix it."

"No," Kurt says after a pause. "I don't think so." He laughs a little bitterly. "I guess we already have glee club drama for the beginning of the year." Puck joins in with his own bitter chuckle.

"I, for one, think Mannes is a better fit for you," Kurt starts suddenly. "I think the program will suit."

"Yeah?" Puck finds himself nodding. "That was sort of my impression, too. I started on the first essay question on the Unified App."

"What is it?"

"It's ridiculous, in a way: 'How has music influenced your personal growth?'"

"Hmm." Kurt bites back a smile. "Predictable of them."

Puck's about to take a chance and kiss Kurt when he hears footsteps on the stairs, and Finn's voice call out. "Kurt? Puck?"

They stand and step apart slightly, just as Finn and Rachel appear at the doorway. Finn looks conflicted, and Rachel looks somewhat chastised.

"Noah," she begins, but Puck interrupts her.

"No. You don't get to call me that. I prefer Puck, and if you can't respect anything else about me, at least you can respect that."

Rachel blanches but nods. "Okay. I guess I can understand that." She draws a shaky breath. "I would like to apologize. My remarks were ill-considered and hastily spoken. While I did not intend to impart the meaning that was heard, my meaning was still, perhaps, not appropriate nor polite."

Puck just raises an eyebrow and shakes his head a little. "So, you only meant to imply I was poor?"

"Well… yes," Rachel whispers, eyes downcast.

"Great." Puck sits back down heavily on Kurt's bed, and an awkward silence hangs in the air.

"I thought… if you're willing, Puck, and if you can drive, Kurt," Finn begins, "maybe we could head over to the mall. Have dinner. Check out some music."

Puck wants to groan, because he spent the entire day shopping just the day before, but he really wants to spend the rest of his day with Kurt, in whatever fucked up way they can manage, so he nods shortly, and Kurt agrees to drive.

The awkward silence continues in the car until Puck pulls out his phone and connects it to Kurt's sound system, hitting shuffle. "My Life" comes on first, and Puck smirks a little. It's followed by "The End of the Innocence," and Puck lets himself sing along softly. He hears Kurt harmonizing equally softly, and he's pretty sure Finn and Rachel can't hear them. He starts to regret plugging in his phone when the next song starts.

"Who is this?" Rachel asks tentatively.

"It's an Irish boy band," Puck says after a moment, "called Westlife. Simon Cowell originally signed them. The song's called 'Pictures in My Head.'" He doesn't say anything more, wanting to listen to the song, and the sound of Kurt softly singing along.

"It's a really sweet song," Finn offers after a few more moments. "Deeper than you expect at first."

Puck nods once and closes his eyes, leaning his head against the window. With his eyes closed, he can pretend that he and Kurt are alone in the car, and he can just listen to Kurt's voice blending with the original recording.

 

Once they arrive at the mall, they manage to make it inside before Puck resorts to the awkwardness of having his hands deep in his pockets. He gets the impression that the store staff are thinking that he's a shoplifter with his weird stance, so then he feels even more self-conscious. Finn and Kurt appear to have some kind of conversation with their eyes, and Finn steers the group of them to Fye. It lets them split into pairs somewhat naturally, though he and Kurt find themselves standing, somewhat confused, in front of country music, while Finn and Rachel frown at the horror movie display.

"Finn should never attempt to plan things on his own," Kurt huffs. "He always means well, but. No."

Puck snorts. "He should've just taken Rachel somewhere and left us alone."

"That would have made too much sense." Kurt sighs and absently flips the CDs back and forth. "I think he's hoping for a big tearful apology/acceptance scene by the end of the evening."

"Not happening."

"No," Kurt agrees. "She needs to stew in it for a little while and realize what she's done before she even attempts to apologize again."

"Since today was a bust," Puck offers, "what do you want to do tomorrow? I have to open and work until 1 or 2, but after that I don't have plans."

"Hmm." Kurt walks slowly to the side, as if actually examining the titles. "I thought about _Conan_ but."

Puck nods; he knows exactly what Kurt means. "Yeah."

"Why don't I just meet you at your place around 2:30, and we'll decide then?"

Puck nods. "Good idea."

The remainder of the afternoon passes in the same stilted fashion, everyone carefully polite. Puck misses Kurt's usual commentary on the state of fashion around them, but he also assumes that Kurt's not able to withhold commentary on Rachel for today.

Dinner in the food court is even more awkward. He hates eating in the food court in Lima, because it seems like such a waste of the concept. Subway and the Chinese place, and nothing else. He gets soup from Subway and an entree from Chopsticks anyway, rolling his eyes when he hears Rachel ask Finn what in the world Puck's doing. When he sits down, Kurt hands him a drink from the pretzel place with a small smirk.

They all get cinnamon rolls after they finish their meals, and then Kurt suggests that it's time to leave, since the next day is Monday. "Everyone but you has to work tomorrow, Rachel," he says with a raised eyebrow when she starts to protest. "And since you live closest to the mall, we'll take you home first."

Rachel doesn't protest again, and when Kurt pulls up to the curb and turns off the Navigator, she gets out without complaint, Finn walking her to the door. As soon as the door closes, Puck takes advantage of the deepening shadows to reach for Kurt's hand. Finn's just going to have to deal.

Finn comes back after just a few minutes, and Puck feels like the ride to his apartment takes far too little time. He's kept Kurt's hand in his the whole ride, and when Kurt pulls up, he unbuckles too.

Kurt leans across the center console and pulls Puck closer, and Puck has a moment of thinking that Finn's not going to be all that happy before Kurt's lips close on his, and he doesn't really care. Kurt's tongue swipes across his lips and he parts his mouth willingly. They kiss for a moment longer before Kurt pulls back. "See you tomorrow, 'kay?" he murmurs, and Puck just nods before slipping from the truck. He nods again as Finn switches seats, and he stands on the sidewalk watching them pull away.

 

"So, I'm really, REALLY sorry about Rachel"

Kurt sighs a little. "It's not your fault, Finn. As much as I would love to spread the blame around, it's pretty much all on her."

"I didn't mean to mess up the last day before..." Finn shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "You know, before you guys have to start pretending."

"I know, Finn. And thank you for..." Kurt gestures a bit uncomfortably.

"Hey, you've suffered through the same for me."

"This is true," Kurt acknowledges. "Why did Rachel even want to do this today? Her stated reason, I mean."

"I dunno. She talks kind of, you know, a LOT, so sometimes I start to tune her out after a while. She was working on her applications and she wanted to see what everybody else was doing and where they were going and maybe she could help everybody with their essays and...I don't know, that's kind of where I stopped listening. Maybe she just misses everybody."

Kurt presses his lips together hard, trying not to laugh at the image of his brother slowly tuning Rachel out. He furrows his brow a little at the comment about helping with essays, but lets it slide. "And yet, everyone else was able to escape," Kurt sighs after a moment. "And we are seeing everyone on Monday."

"She's very...complex," Finn says, with a strange tilted-head nod, like he's half afraid Rachel's hiding on the back seat floor boards and will leap out at him at the first sign of betrayal.

"She's a complete diva and a little bit of a bitch," Kurt counters, "and I can say that because I recognize the same qualities in myself. The difference is that I do have a filter on my mouth."

"Hey, now, that's my girlfriend we're talking about. I know she's a lot to deal with sometimes, but she really does mean well, you know. If she didn't care about you guys, she wouldn't be nearly as irritating about stuff."

"I know she does," Kurt concedes. "But I also know that you can't fix what happened today, Finn. And Rachel can't fix it as quickly as she thinks she can."

"Maybe if you guys would just let her in on what was going on..." Finn trails off.

"No," Kurt answers immediately and sharply. "Rachel's incapable of keeping a secret. Beyond that, I don't think Puck's going to be inclined to tell her anything that personal."

"I'm not pushing and I'm not gonna tell her or anything, but I think if she had known what she was interrupting, she might have let it drop," Finn says. Sweet, loyal Finn and his need to defend people, whether they actually need it or not. "And it's not like you guys were in the best moods to start with. I'm not saying she was right, 'cause she really wasn't, but I think that Puck was pissy to begin with because your plans got screwed up and it wasn't too hard for her to push his buttons."

Kurt grips the wheel tightly and fights the urge to explode. _This is Finn. It's your brother in all his glorious optimism. Finn. Remember. Your brother._ "Finn," he finally utters, voice nearly blank. "You probably need to stop talking now."

Finn slumps down in his seat, which still doesn't put him quite at head level with Kurt, and doesn't say a word for the rest of the short drive home.

Kurt feels like staging a diva-worthy exit/entrance, and mentally rehearses the exact way he would slam the door of the Navigator, fling open the door into the house, and dramatically stomp up the stairs. He might need to replicate the feeling sometime during the school year, after all. Instead, he gets out slowly and leans against the door once he closes it. "Go on," he finally says. "I'm just going to stay out here for a little while."

"Ok, man. I'm still sorry, ok?" Finn slouches into the house with that slumped-shoulders, kicked-dog look he gets when he feels bad about doing or saying something stupid.

"I know," Kurt replies just before Finn slips inside. Kurt spends a minute longer leaning on his Navigator before moving to sit on the porch. He still wants to give Rachel a piece of his mind. Apart from dating him, Puck had become one of his best friends. He still couldn't believe Rachel had been so cruel. He plays with his phone, the temptation to send her a scathing text high. He's actually opened the screen to text her when the porch light comes on and his dad steps onto the porch, walking over to sit down next to him.

"You want to talk about it?" Burt offers, and Kurt shakes his head, then nods.

"Yes. No. I don't know," he elaborates. "Part of me feels like I was in a really awful movie."

"It was somewhat overly dramatic." Burt shuffles his hat. "Listen, Kurt. I don't really know what to say, without sounding like one of those videos. You and Puckerman get each other. I noticed that a couple of months ago. Not everyone's going to get either of you in the same way. Now, what Rachel said? She was out of line." Burt pats Kurt on the back. "I like to think that she'll make it right, since Finn obviously sees something in her. Hang in there." With that, Burt heads back inside, leaving Kurt on the porch. Kurt rolls the phone between his hands again, and then jumps when it rings.

 

When he opens the door, there's silence, and he crosses into the kitchen, assuming his mom left a note on the refrigerator. She's taken Hannah out to meet a friend for ice cream, so Puck pulls out a can of pop and walks heavily to his room. He drinks the pop in silence, just thinking.

Puck's not going to lie to himself and think he's truly friends with all twelve others from New Directions. Still, though, he had always thought of Rachel somewhat fondly, like a cousin. And, yeah, maybe it was stupid to feel that way primarily because they shared a religion and a heritage that enjoyed minority status, especially in their town, but Rachel had never given him any indication that he was _wrong_ to feel that way.

Until, of course, a few hours earlier. He wasn't sure what hurt the most: the implication of her initial statement, the way she didn't deny his interpretation, or the idea that it was actually about how much money his family did or didn't have.

He finishes the can of pop and crushes it in his hand, then drops it in the trash. He thinks he hears a key in the door, so he closes his bedroom door, light still turned out. Puck flops onto his bed, then pulls out his phone and dials Kurt.

"Hi."

"Hey." Puck frowns a little, listening to the background noise. "Are you outside?"

"On the porch." Kurt sighs a little into the phone. "We forgot to make a bet."

"A bet?"

"About how long it would be before Finn started urging us to tell someone."

Puck almost dropsthe phone. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I wish I were," Kurt replies wearily.

Puck screws his mouth into a hard frown. "He _does_ know that it's technically none of his business and completely not his decision, right? What a douche."

"Hopefully I got that message across. No doubt he feels like he has some stake in it."

Puck rubs his hand over his face. "It's not that I don't want to, you know that. It's just everything else about this town."

"No, I know," Kurt agrees. "I don't trust it as a whole. But. We're going to get out of this place."

"Like that old song," Puck smiles a little and sings a line, "'We gotta get out of this place if it's the last thing we ever do.'"

"Exactly."

"Oh, that reminds me." Puck sits up on his bed. "Everyone always says everything's more expensive in New York. What about stuff at like, Target? Does Target cost more in the city?"

"I… don't know," Kurt says after a minute. "That's a good question. Though, looking at the size of places in New York, I think it's more Ikea that you'd want to look at."

Puck winces. "Good point."

"Giving up a large closet will be moderately painful," Kurt continues. "I'm going to have to practice mixing and matching with a limited supply of clothing or something."

Puck grins, because, yeah, that probably will be the hardest thing for Kurt. "You'll manage," Puck answers confidently. "You put up with wearing uniforms for months, surely it won't be worse than that."

"That's true. Anything would be better than that." Puck can practically hear the grin in Kurt's voice. "Even dressing in baggy jeans and a t-shirt every day. Speaking of baggy jeans, or rather, jeans that weren't baggy…" Kurt purrs. "I noticed _your_ jeans today."

"Mmm-hmm?" Puck smirks, even though Kurt can't see him. "I thought you might have."

"I definitely did," Kurt confirms. "Not baggy at all. Very nice. Are there more from whence those came?"

"If you liked those, I definitely have a few things to show you," Puck confirms.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Good." Puck starts to say more, but then hears a knock at his door. "Hang on." He covers the phone with his hand. "Come in!"

"Oh, sorry," his mom says when she notices the phone in his hand. "I just wanted to let you know we were back. Did you have a good day?"

Puck shrugs. "Could've been better, Finn had Rachel over and it wasn't one of her best days."

"Oh, that's too bad. You open in the morning?"

Puck nods.

"I'll see you in the afternoon, then." She starts to close the door when Puck interrupts her.

"Oh, Mom, Kurt's coming over after I get home from work tomorrow."

"Oh, all right." She smiles. "That's nice. Good night, Noah."

"Night, Mom." He waits until she's closed the door before turning back to the phone. "Sorry, Mom came in."

"No worries. I guess you need to get some sleep, though."

"Unfortunately," Puck acknowledges. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he asks again, feeling just a little needy.

"Count on it," Kurt assures him. "Be good," he says softly, and Puck bites his lip at the tone of Kurt's voice."

"I'm always good," he replies after clearing his throat. "Night, Kurt."

"Good night, Puck."

Puck ends the call and stares at the ceiling for a long time before he goes to bed.


	6. Just Another Manic Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RENT. Also, Monday. Can't trust that day.

Kurt knocks on the door to the apartment at exactly 2:30, which makes Puck smile. He managed to convince his mom and Hannah both to hang out in their respective bedrooms for a little while, because the last thing he wants right then is an extended hi-how-are-you session before he and Kurt have any time to themselves. He opens the door and pulls Kurt into his arms as he's closing the door behind him.

"Hello to you too," Kurt laughs, sliding his arms around Puck.

Puck pulls Kurt closer and kisses him in lieu of a verbal response. They stay there, just inside the front door, kissing slowly, for long minutes. Kurt's pressing himself ever closer to Puck, but Puck's still surprised when he's jolted as Kurt's erection presses up against his. "Kurt…." He pulls his head back briefly to look at Kurt, but Kurt just shakes his head and recaptures Puck's lips, thrusting his hips into Puck's.

Puck thinks that maybe he's not the only one who's bad at rules.

He lets Kurt back him up three steps, until he's up against the wall, arms tight around Kurt's waist, drawing them together. He can think of a lot of reasons that this is a bad idea, with the main one being that his mom and his sister are just down the hall, but none of them make enough of an impression for Puck to make any effort to stop Kurt. There's a couple of great reasons that it's a good idea, and so the next time Kurt's hips thrust forward, Puck rolls his own hips to meet them. Kurt groans into Puck's mouth and grasps at Puck's shirt. Puck slides his hands down Kurt's back and cups Kurt's ass in them, pulling him forward. Kurt's head is tilted back, exposing his neck, and Puck nuzzles down it, pulling Kurt's shirt aside to find a place he can remark Kurt.

They settle into a fast, frenzied rhythm, Puck gently squeezing Kurt's ass as they thrust. He's pretty sure that he's leaving a pretty large, relatively dark mark on Kurt's shoulder, but it should be easy for Kurt to hide under clothes, especially since he doesn't often wear a shirt without a collar to school. Kurt's gasping and moaning, and Puck's thinking that it's damn lucky his mom or, worse, Hannah hasn't come out to investigate. Kurt's thrusts grow faster, and Puck gives his shoulder one last nip, then puts his mouth to Kurt's ear. He pulls Kurt tight against him, not letting him move back, and whispers. "Come for me, Kurt. Please."

Kurt groans in response, and then his body thrusts up one more time before shuddering with his orgasm. The sight of his face and the feeling of him against Puck's body is enough for Puck, and he follows Kurt over the edge, leaning heavily on the wall as his arms keep Kurt pressed against him.

Kurt starts to recover first, tucking his head on Puck's shoulder, forehead resting on Puck's neck. "I think I have another hickey to keep hidden," he finally says with dry amusement.

"You like it," Puck says confidently. He brings up one hand to poke at it gently. "Yep, it's a big one," he adds.

Kurt laughs. "You sound so very self-satisfied. Smug."

"And why shouldn't I be?" Puck kisses Kurt's temple.

"Point," Kurt murmurs after a moment, then adds, "We should probably move."

"True." Puck straightens and slides his arm around Kurt's waist, steering him to Puck's bedroom. "There went that rule," he says with a smirk, and Kurt just laughs.

"It was a stupid rule," he declares as he sits in Puck's desk chair. He furrows his brow for a minute. "Did we just… Um. Are your mom and Hannah home?"

Puck flushes. "Um. Yeah."

Kurt's blushing, too. "Whoops."

"Seriously," Puck chuckles, sitting on the edge of his bed. "We probably should be more careful when Hannah's around, I guess."

"But not your mom?"

"Eh." Puck shrugs. "She can deal."

Kurt shakes his head, lips pressed together, but doesn't argue.

"You want to watch a movie?"

"Sure. After I visit the little boys' room," Kurt adds, wrinkling his nose.

"Oh, yeah. Good idea." Puck points down the hall, and while Kurt's gone, he just changes his own jeans, then heads down the hall. He raps on the door lightly. "I'm going to the living room, come pick out something when you're done."

Puck grabs two cans of pop and a package of cookies, then slumps on the couch just as Kurt walks down the hall. "What do you want to watch?"

Kurt shrugs, running a finger over the cases as he reads the titles. "Ooh, you have RENT?"

"I guess? Some of those are my mom's."

"We are watching RENT," Kurt declares, plucking it from the shelf. "I think you'll like it."

"Okay." Puck shrugs. "What's it about?"

"Friends in the East Village of New York City. Life. Love. AIDS." Kurt pops the DVD into the player and then sits down. "The guy from the older Law & Orders? Jesse L. Martin? He's in it. Also Idina Menzel. They got most of the original Broadway cast for the movie."

"Cool," Puck hands Kurt one of the cans of pop and then curls his arm around Kurt's shoulders. They fit together easily, and Puck can't help but think how quickly they've become so familiar with each other. There's nothing that feels awkward between the two of them; it's just dealing with other people that introduces the occasional wrench in the works.

Kurt slides his free hand down Puck's side, resting it on Puck's thigh, and leans into Puck's side. Puck spends a few minutes thinking that he's just humoring Kurt, but then the opening song starts, and Puck's hooked.

They remain in nearly the same position on the couch for the next two hours. Puck vaguely registers his mom walking through once or twice, and periodically he finds a couple of cookies pressed into his hand, courtesy of Kurt, who's obviously seen the movie multiple times.

When the movie finally ends, Puck's pretty sure his jaw has dropped. Kurt's maneuvered them to the alternate ending, and there's a couple of tears trailing down Kurt's cheek. "Sorry," he sniffs. "It gets me every time."

Puck just nods, then starts a little as Kurt wipes a thumb across his cheek. "Guess I'm not the only one," Kurt adds softly, and kisses Puck's cheek. "You liked it?"

"That was awesome," Puck agrees.

"I've been trying to get him to watch it for years," a voice interjects, and their heads whip around to see Puck's mom standing at the doorway to the kitchen. She crosses the room with a smile. "Hello, Kurt."

"Hello, Ms. Puckerman."

"Call me Rina."

"Yes, Ms. Puckerman," Kurt replies with a grin, and Rina laughs, and Puck smiles.

"Noah, are you two having dinner here?" Puck looks at Kurt, who just shrugs with a half-nod. Puck nods once and then turns back to his mom.

"Sure, Mom. Thanks."

"It'll be about twenty minutes," she adds, and they nod as she returns to the kitchen.

"She likes you," Puck points out, even though he's pretty sure Kurt picked up on that.

"Yeah?" Kurt responds, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Puck reassures him. "I'm sure. Trust me. She asked you to call her by her first name _and_ she invited you to stay for dinner. She likes you."

Kurt smiles, then, and Puck decides that he needs to be kissed properly. At first Kurt tries to stop Puck, gesturing towards the kitchen, but Puck finally convinces Kurt that it's not a big deal. Either that, or Kurt just gets tired of fending Puck off. Puck's not sure and doesn't particularly care which it is, since either way, he's getting to kiss Kurt.

Dinner's ready a little sooner than Puck would've liked, but he leads Kurt into the kitchen anyway, and they wait for Hannah to bound into the room as well. "What're we having, Mom?"

"Chicken and broccoli casserole."

Puck shrugs and nods. "Sounds good." He sits down and Kurt settles next to him. As soon as Hannah stops bouncing and starts sitting, his mom dishes out the food, and everyone starts to eat. It's a pretty big casserole, which is good, because both he and Kurt are eighteen year old boys. He thinks that it's not going to be nominated for Kurt's new favorite dish, but Kurt still eats two servings to Puck's three.

Puck has the absent thought that forget the cost of living in New York City, he hopes food isn't too expensive.

Puck stands up automatically to help clear the table, and he hears his mom protesting a minute later that Kurt shouldn't help, he's a guest. Kurt protests right back, and the end result is that Hannah and Puck have most of the clearing done before Kurt and his mom finish their discussion. When they look around, they laugh, but apparently they've come to an agreement for the future.

Puck's mom tries to interest them in watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition with her, but Puck protests immediately, and they decide to walk around downtown for a bit. They duck into the comic store for a moment, and Puck laments that _Rage_ isn't a real series. Then they walk back towards where Kurt is parked.

"I should be done around 10, if you're still going to pick me up."

Kurt nods. "I'll be there." He leans against the Navigator. "Just one more year."

"One more year," Puck agrees, and takes Kurt's hand briefly, squeezing it before releasing it. "Be good."

"I'm always good," Kurt replies with a smirk, and climbs into the driver's seat.

 

Puck feels sluggish and out of sorts from the moment he wakes up on Monday morning. He remembers to grab a change of clothes for after work, and walks to work with his earbuds in, listening to the soundtrack from _RENT_ which he did, in fact, download the night before. He manages to feel like he's found a bit of a groove before the first customers come in, and by 9, his manager catches him humming.

"RENT, right?"

Puck startles a little and looks up. "Oh, yeah." He smiles a little sheepishly. "Sorry, I watched it yesterday w–for the first time."

"Girlfriend convince you to watch it?"

Puck shakes his head. "No, no girlfriend."

His manager smiles a little and nods, but doesn't say anything else, leaving Puck feeling even more unsettled. When the clock hits 9:55, he makes a drink for himself and one for Kurt, then grabs his bag and heads outside to wait. He doesn't have to wait long; Kurt pulls up within a minute, and Puck's happy to settle into his seat.

"Can we just… drive? They'll let us into college without that last English credit, right?"

Kurt half-heartedly chuckles with him, but he sees Kurt's eyes flick to the gas gauge, and he knows the idea holds an appeal for both of them. "How was 9:04 man today?"

"Relatively normal. For him." Puck shakes himself a little. "I just feel… I don't know. Rattled. Restless."

Kurt nods.

"Can I use the shower at your house? I smell like coffee and caramel."

"Neither bad smells," Kurt smiles, "but sure. If you want Wal-Mart brand toiletries, use Finn's shower. If you want to smell like mint or fruit, use mine. Or if you want to smell like a nurse, use Dad and Carole's."

Puck laughs. "I'll skip smelling like a nurse, thanks. Doesn't anyone in your house go for unscented products?"

"Apparently not."

Puck takes a quick shower after they arrive at the Hudmel house, refusing to answer Kurt's query as to whose shower he was going to use. When he comes back down the stairs in fresh clothes, Finn's watching a Law & Order re-run in the living room, and Kurt's typing on his laptop at the kitchen table. Puck watches the TV from the doorway for a few minutes, then sits down at the table across from Kurt.

"What're you working on?"

"My essays," Kurt replies, making a face. "At least for Hunter. I figure I can use the time in the afternoons before dual enrollment starts to work on the others."

"Yeah, the dual enrollment thing is kind of fucked," Puck agrees. "It's gonna make October suck when all that free time evaporates."

"Yes," Kurt agrees. They spend the next hour discussing classes, and applications, and it almost feels like any other day from earlier in the summer, except that Kurt picks up Puck's hand after just a few minutes, and their bare feet are pressed together in a jumbled mess.

Almost, except Puck is far happier, and the restless feeling is gone for the first time all day.

Eventually Finn turns off the television and shuffles into the kitchen. "Lunch?"

"I suppose it is about that time," Kurt agrees, and Puck just nods. After a small debate, they settle on a frozen pizza, and Finn slides it into the oven. They work well together; Kurt gets out plates, Puck retrieves pop, and Finn finds the pizza cutter. Their talk is light, though, and Puck's pretty sure Finn is deliberately trying not to mention Rachel at all. A small part of Puck says that he should tell Finn not to worry about it, but the rest of Puck doesn't really care and is still pretty angry, so he lets Finn continue avoiding her in his conversation.

There's some debate over whether Mr. Schue will wear a vest even though school doesn't officially start until the next day; Finn claims no, but Kurt and Puck both think he will. Kurt's is more wishful thinking; he's been bored with critiquing fashion of anonymous shoppers at the mall and is ready to go back to critiquing his friends and teachers. Puck just thinks that Schue's going to think of it as a school function; ergo, a vest. Then the conversation turns to what themes they'll be forced to work with this year, so Puck and Kurt fill in Finn on their theory of country music within the first few weeks. By the time they finish talking and clean up, it's past one, and Kurt stretches, letting go of Puck's hand for the first time in awhile.

"I'm going to go change."

"Is there some kind of dress code I don't know about?" Finn asks, looking down at his own t-shirt and jeans, and then at Puck, who raises his hands up.

"I didn't want to smell like coffee," he defends himself.

"Someone decided for me that maybe I shouldn't wear collarless shirts for the next week," Kurt says, rolling his eyes at Puck with a little smirk.

"Yeah, yeah, put the blame all on me," Puck shakes his head. "It's blame poor Puck day."

"I'll put all the blame on you because it _was_ all you."

"Oh, yeah. Good point. No, don't want anyone else contributing to that."

Finn rolls his eyes. "You two are awful. Kurt, go change or whatever. Puck, let's play Mario or something."

Kurt comes back down the stairs just as Finn's lost, and Puck follows Kurt into the kitchen. He throws a quick glance at Finn, but he's started a new game, so Puck doesn't think he'll be interrupting anytime soon.

Kurt's wearing what looks like one of the navy shirts he wears at the garage, but with a light blue scarf, and tight green pants with dark brown leather sandals. As much as Puck likes seeing Kurt more casual in the summer, there's something about seeing him dressed for school that makes Puck smile and pull Kurt close, kissing him deeply.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"

"You look… delectable."

Kurt takes a step back and runs his eyes deliberately over Puck. "Don't think I didn't notice you." He steps close again. "You look rather fetching yourself." Kurt runs his hands down Puck's chest, smoothing the fabric. "In fact, if I recall correctly, I have a picture of you in this shirt on Friday, too."

"Mmmhmm," Puck agrees, wrapping one arm around Kurt's waist. "My mom thought it would be too tight."

Kurt smirks. "Oh, I think it's just right." He runs his hand up over Puck's chest again and down one arm. "Definitely just right."

Puck laughs and then kisses Kurt again. "Maybe we should just skip the meeting and get started on that drive we were talking about earlier."

"I wish," Kurt grumbles, and puts both his arms around Puck's neck, kissing him slowly and deeply.

"Ahem."

Puck rolls his eyes as Kurt pulls away slightly. "What, Finn?"

"It's, like, 1:50."

"It's a five minute drive," Kurt says with his own roll of the eyes. "We'll leave in five minutes."

"Oh. Okay," Finn shrugs, but he crosses the kitchen and goes to the refrigerator, and with a sigh, Puck and Kurt break apart.

They pull into the parking lot with the clock in the Navigator reading exactly 2:00, and Kurt turns the key to off in the midst of a deep breath. The three exit at the same time, Finn and Puck waiting on the passenger side until Kurt joins them. They all stand still, staring at the school.

"Ready?" Kurt says after a moment.

"Begin as we mean to go on, right?"

"Right."

"Well." Puck starts forward, an arm slung casually over Finn's shoulders and the other resting on Kurt's. "Let's do this thing, Munsters."

 

Puck catalogues the rest of the vehicles in the lot as they walk in, and concludes that they're the last three to show. When they reach the choir room, he can sense Kurt steeling himself, and he mentally does the same. Kurt pushes the door open and the three of them walk in, Kurt first, Puck on his heels, and Finn bringing up the rear.

The conversation in the room is at a low buzz, and most of the room stops to look at the somewhat unexpected trio. There's a pair of seats next to Rachel on the left hand side of the room, which Kurt deliberately walks past, climbing to the top row on the right hand side, and Puck follows suit. Both make a point of looking anywhere but at Rachel as they cross in front of her. Finn looks apologetically at Puck before sitting down next to Rachel, and the low buzz increases a little in volume.

Puck notices a few strange looks already starting, and he can tell Santana's about to open her mouth when Mr. Schuester walks in front of them and claps his hands twice. "Now that we're all here, we can get started!"

Puck looks at the rest of the room for the first time. There's a new bulletin board, covered with an oversize red sheet. There's a table that obviously has some food on it, but the food is also covered with a big red sheet. Finally, there's a table with rectangular pieces of white and yellow paper stacked on it, with cups of markers spread out on top of it.

"First of all, I'm so glad you all could make it today!" Schue looks around the room, beaming, before continuing. "I thought we could talk a little about the year, catch up after the summer, and maybe even get started on working for Sectionals. First, though, I want to show you our new addition." He gestures to the covered bulletin board.

"As a reward for our twelfth-place finish at Nationals, Principal Figgins installed a bulletin board for us. I was in here last Tuesday morning trying to decide what to do with it when Em–Ms. Pillsbury stopped by. She had a great suggestion that we're going to try.

"She mentioned that as a whole, the twelve of you represent the most motivated students in the senior class with regards to college and your plans for post-high school life. Not just the obvious ones," and he smiles at Rachel for a moment, "but others of you, too, she assured me. And so, I've divided this board into twelve sections." Schue pulls the sheet off the bulletin board, revealing a design that looked something like a crazy quilt, with each section naming one of them. "You can do whatever you like with your section, as long as it relates somehow to what you're doing after high school. I'll explain more about it later."

Puck smirks and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. Yeah, Schue and Pillsbury were totally dating.

"Now, before I continue, Sam wanted to say something."

Sam rises from his seat between Mercedes and Mike, and stands up at the front of the room. "So, um. You guys have got to stop." He scans the room. "Seriously. Some of you have just given us overt help." He looks at Quinn, Mercedes, Tina, Mike, and Artie each in turn. "Some of you think you're being sneaky. Really big tips on pizza orders?"

"Kurt, you said Sam would totally never figure it out!" Finn protests, and Kurt smirks, biting back laughter.

"Santana said we had to give a bigger tip if we knew the delivery driver," Brittany muses. "Is that not true?" Santana's got her head in her hand, shaking it slowly.

"And then there's the really sneaky. Like whoever bought Captain America school supplies for Stevie." Sam's wrinkling his forehead, and everyone's looking around the room. Puck knows this is probably a good time to practice his poker face, but he's already got two really big secrets hanging around, so he chuckles after a moment and holds out his hands, palms facing Sam.

"I know absolutely nothing about Stevie's binder preferences that were definitely not communicated to me by Hannah while school supply shopping."

Sam gapes for just a moment, and everyone turns to look at Puck, who just raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "Seriously, though, you all must stop." And now Sam's grinning. "Because my mom found a great new job."

Everyone's up on their feet immediately, congratulating Sam and passing him from handshake to embrace to handshake, and if Puck notices Mercedes holding on a little longer than everyone else, well, he's not going to mention it. To anyone except Kurt, and maybe Finn.

Then Schue is getting everyone back in their seats. "Now, I wasn't going to have performances today, but Rachel was very insistent that she get a chance to sing."

Rachel stands up, and walks to the piano, a long look on her face, and she casts an apologetic look up towards where Puck and Kurt are sitting. Puck stifles a groan, and Kurt passes a hand over his eyes. Rachel's planning to apologize via song. "I, um. Just wanted to express my sorrow at hurting two of my good friends," she says quietly, and Puck can't help but feel a little sorry for her. "So this is for the two of you."

Puck wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't a mournful yet jazzy version of Credence Clearwater Revival's "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" Puck looks around surreptitiously during her performance and sees knowing looks on several places, plus the occasional sympathetic glance in his direction. She ends the song standing in front of Puck, and he embraces her briefly when she initiates the contact. Then she turns to Kurt and whispers in his ear before planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you, Rachel," Schue interrupts the silence that follows. "Now, before we attack our snacks," he gestures to the still-covered table, "let me explain the function of the paper and rectangles. As I said, the bulletin board sections are _yours_ , and I anticipate seeing notes about auditions, acceptance letters, and other plans posted on it over the course of the year. Since it's still only August, however, I thought you could each write one or two things that you want to see in your space. A quote, a goal, an important date: whatever is motivating to you." Schue claps his hands again. "So, without further delay. Snacks! And decorating." He removes the sheet, revealing a generous spread, by high school club standards. There's a cheese platter, fruit, and one of those giant Subway sandwiches. There are cookies from Pat's arranged on a platter, and at the very end there's an enormous cake from Save-A-Lot, decorated with music notes and inscribed "Welcome Back Glee Club 2012!"

"Sweet!" Puck's on his feet. "Free food!" Everyone laughs, and the rest of the guys follow suit, the girls approaching at a less voracious pace. In the melee, Mike and Sam pull Puck aside (after he fills his plate, thankfully), to ask him what Rachel's song and apology were about. Puck shrugs. "We were hanging out at Finn's on Saturday and she lost her filter," he finally settles on, and the other two boys nod. Puck sits down at the other table, absently doodling on one of the rectangles of paper, trying to decide what to write. He looks at Kurt from the corner of his eye; Mercedes, Tina, and Brittany had swarmed around him as soon as everyone stood up, and Puck's pretty sure they're pumping him for details of the Rachel fiasco as well. Finn drops into the seat next to Puck, and Artie rolls up on his other side, each of them staring at their own rectangles. Slowly, a few people put theirs up, commenting on others, and inspiration finally hits Puck. He grins and writes out a short quote before tacking it in the middle of his section.

 _We gotta get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do._ Eyes on the prize, keep your mind on your goal. That's what all the different inspirational movies and motivational posters all come down to, in the end, and while Puck has bigger dreams, the most important and the most pressing is simple: to get himself (and Kurt) the hell out of Dodge.

He reads a few of the others' rectangles, and finds nothing surprising. Rachel's is simple: _Broadway Bound_. Finn's, the section next to Rachel's, says _Football scholarship_. Brittany's drawn an excellent, if somewhat inappropriate to the assignment, squirrel. Quinn's reads _Golden days ahead_.

As he sits down, Tina stands to put hers up, and he can read that it says _Be the change_. Tina's still standing at the board, and Finn's gotten back up to read more, when Kurt posts his with a smile.

"Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred," Finn reads. "What's that mean, Kurt?"

"Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes," Kurt sings softly, and then Tina picks up the next line, "Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred moments so dear," before they sing the next two together, and a look of confused understanding passes over Finn's face. When the next stanza starts, Rachel, Santana, and Puck all join in.

After the chorus, Tina takes the solo with brilliance, after Kurt nods at her imperceptibly. While she's singing, Kurt meets Puck's eyes and raises an eyebrow questioningly. Puck shrugs and takes the Law & Order dude's solo. The five of them finish the song in chorus, and Schue starts the clapping.

"That was awesome, dude," Sam claps Puck on the shoulder, and Schue even makes noises about using that number in a competition. No one notices Kurt runs his fingers over Puck's quote, or the small smile they share while everyone is talking. Puck would put good money on the idea that Kurt meant it more as a countdown than a celebration of the time they had left, no matter how much Kurt may love his friends.

After everyone's written something, Schue makes everyone sit in a circle and they're supposed to go around and explain what their thing means, if it's not self-explanatory, and also what they did this summer. Puck mentally groans at the requirements. Yeah, he's done a lot this summer, but very little of it is anything he wants to share with the rest of them.

 _I worked, I saved a lot of money, realized I was gay, then realized I want Kurt. I've spent the last week or so trying to convince Kurt he wants exactly what I want._

Yeah, that's a little too honest. Rachel, naturally, volunteers to go first, and then they're going around the circle from there, which means Puck's going to be the fourth person to speak. After Rachel comes Finn, and then Artie, who apparently spent three weeks on a cross-country road trip with his parents, looking at colleges. His rectangle has just one word: OCEAN.

Puck straightens in his seat a little as he starts talking, and gestures towards the bulletin board. "It says _we gotta get out of this place, if it's the last thing we ever do_ , which is a quote from an Animals song from the '60s. I think it's pretty self-explanatory."

"That's a great song," Schue enthuses, breaking in. "We should do it one week, too."

Puck just nods and continues. "I spent the summer working. And hanging out at the Hudmel house." He inclines his head first in Finn's direction, then in Kurt's, then shrugs. "That's it."

Yeah, right.

Brittany goes next, explaining that she drew a squirrel because it's her best animal to draw, and says she spent most of the summer dancing and hanging out with Santana. Puck's pretty sure that in Britt-speak, it means she wants to do something with animals after high school, and that she and Santana are, at the very least, doing the "benefits" thing again, but everyone else seems to take Brittany's words at face value.

Tina talks excitedly about Asian camp and her trip to California to visit some of her relatives. Mike's summer is similar to Tina’s, minus the trip to California, and his rectangle says SYTYCD. Also self-explanatory.

Sam's summer consisted of pizzas and more pizzas, and his rectangle has something to do with going back south for college–another song quote, _A southern man don't need him around, anyhow_. Mercedes is sitting right next to him, shooing him sidelong glances as she talks about babysitting and maybe finding a place for college where she's not such a minority. Her square reads “stand out for the right reason,” she says, because she wants to be notable for being amazing, not for being one of the only black girls in the school.

Kurt's sitting next to her, and Puck wonders what Kurt will say about his summer. "I passed tests A1 through A6 of the ASE Automobile/Light Truck Certification Test Series," he starts with a small smirk, "worked at my dad's shop, and still have better looking nails than most of you," he concludes, holding up his hands to admire them. Most of the girls just nod in agreement with him.

Puck resists the urge to inspect his own nails. If they're dirty, Kurt hasn't seemed to mind so far.

Puck concludes that they're a pretty boring bunch by the time Schue steps into the middle of the circle (and, for the record, Schue is wearing a vest, just like Puck suspected). He starts to speak, but then Finn's insisting that he has to share _his_ summer, too.

"All right, all right," Schue laughs, and any idiot can tell he's pleased to be asked. "I did help April out with her show for a few weeks, then I came back here to find a new, smaller apartment. I went to a couple of professional conferences, one in Topeka and one in Atlanta." Finn nods, satisfied, and Puck suppresses a snort of laughter. "Now, I forgot that I wanted to go over our schedule for the year. Everyone, move the chairs back."

While they're dutifully rearranging their chairs, Schue turns to write on the whiteboard. _Monday–Thursday–Friday_ it reads, and he points to each in turn, reviewing their usual Monday class period, Thursday afternoon, Friday class period schedule. Then he writes below it _Tuesday–morning_ and _Wednesday–lunch_. "These are only for the month or so before competitions," Schue elaborates, "and I'm not including Invitationals as a competition. Even though," he adds with a grin, "we are hosting Invitationals at the beginning of October!"

 _Because that's such good timing for everyone!_ Puck's mind can't help but finish the sentence, but outwardly he smiles along with everyone else.

"Now," Schue says dramatically as he erases the board, "your assignment for the week." He pauses to write _expectations_ across the board, and then under it _unexpected_. "I want songs that deal with either the unexpected or expectations, in some way. Boys versus girls, boys over here," he gestures to the side of the room where Puck is slouched, "girls over here," waving in Brittany and Santana's direction. Everyone starts to move as Schue turns back to erase the board yet again, and fumble through some papers. Kurt's just dropped into a chair in front of Puck, turning it slightly, when Schue opens his mouth again. "Kurt. Other team."

Kurt freezes, and the rest of them do, as well. Puck can tell by looking at Kurt's face that, for once, he hadn't considered going with the girls' team. The girls all have stunned expressions on their faces, but it's Finn who finally breaks the silence.

"Uh, Mr. Schue? I thought you said girls versus boys. Not likes girls versus likes boys."

"I did," Schue says patiently, still not facing them.

"Then why'd you tell Kurt to go with the other team?"

Schue wheels around at that, takes in where everyone is seating, and flushes deeply. "I… I apologize, Kurt," he says after a moment. "I made a faulty assumption."

Kurt shrugs and waves it off, but when they start talking about what song they should do, he doesn't say anything for a few minutes.

Yeah. This sucks, and it's not even the first day of school yet. Because what he _needs_ to do is kiss that look off Kurt's face, but instead he's sitting there pretending to be interested in Googling "great expectations" with Finn and Mike.

Sam speaks up after a few minutes of back and forth discussion. "What if we didn't take it so literally? I mean, the song doesn't have to have the word expectation or unexpected in it to still fit the assignment, right?"

Kurt perks up at this, at last, and nods. "That's an excellent point, Sam. My inner lyricist approves highly."

"Like what kind of song, then," Artie asks, frowning a little.

"Well, something like 'Time to Move On,' by Tom Petty," Sam elaborates. "It's about when it's time to see what's next. To me, that's expectations, that there's something else around the next corner, but it's unexpected. You don't know what's happening." There are nods and a couple of frowns.

Puck knows the song, but he's not sure if everyone does. Kurt's a step ahead of him, though, already pulling it up on YouTube on his phone. He keeps the volume low and puts the phone in the middle of their imperfect circle for everyone to hear. When the song finishes, Kurt nods in approval, as do Puck and Mike.

"I like it," Finn voices his own approval. Artie still looks a little skeptical, but shrugs and acquiesces.

"Can you pull up the lyrics?" Sam asks Kurt, since Kurt's still got his phone out, and Kurt nods. They spend ten minutes dividing up who will sing what part, and then talking amongst themselves. It takes longer for the girls to agree on a song, and no one on that side of the room looks completely happy when they finally announce that they've selected their number.

"Great!" Schue says with a nod. "We'll do the boys' performance on Thursday and the girls' on Friday. I think that was everything I wanted to cover today. It was great to see all of you and I know we're going to have a great year!"

"Let's all go get dinner!" Rachel announces as soon as Schue finishes, and as everyone enthusiastically agrees with her, Puck surrenders to the inevitable. He'd told his mom that he'd miss dinner, even though it was Monday, but he'd been hoping it'd mean he and Kurt could slip off together, or even with Finn tagging along. Not the entire glee club.

As it turns out, Sam volunteers to drive himself, Mercedes, Mike, and Tina, which makes Puck smirk. Artie calls his dad to come drive him, and Kurt does a quick count of the remaining members. "Everyone else can fit in with us," he announces, and everyone heads towards the parking lot.

There's the awkwardness of seating: Quinn, Santana, Brittany, Rachel, and Finn all in one vehicle, plus Puck and Kurt. Santana finally drags Brittany and Quinn into the rear seat, at which point Finn claims the middle seats for himself and Rachel. Puck nods at him imperceptibly, because yeah, he would've been kind of pissed if he wasn't sitting shotgun, but it wasn't like he could outright claim it. Not that day, anyway.

Kurt's barely started the engine before he turns to Puck. "Music," he says imperiously, handing his phone to Puck. Puck grins and plugs it in before hitting shuffle, and then leans his head against the window. "Where're we going, anyway?" he asks the car at large, and it's Finn who answers.

"Godfather's. You can't go wrong with a buffet of pizza."

Puck nods and listens to everyone's chatter. Quinn and Santana seem to be discussing whether or not they should consider rejoining the Cheerios. Rachel's muttering something to Finn, and periodically Finn says "It's fine, Rach. It's fine," or a variant thereof. Kurt's singing along with some of the songs that are playing.

"What do you think, Puck?"

"What?" He turns sideways in his seat to look behind him, where the three girls in the back are looking at him expectantly.

"Uh…" Puck stalls. Finn looks at him blankly, and Kurt's giving him a sympathetic look, since no one else can really see Kurt's face. "Um. Not really?"

"That's too bad," Quinn shakes her head, and then the three of them bend their heads together.

Puck turns back to to the front, shaking his own head slowly. Why had he thought he was into girls, again? They were confusing at best. Difficult. Or maybe they weren't difficult so much as Kurt was just… easy. He understood Kurt, and Kurt seemed to understand him.

They arrive at Godfather's and convince the hostess to shove enough tables together for them all to sit in a group before setting off for the buffet. Puck finds himself sandwiched between Mike and Brittany for the duration of the meal, which is definitely better than it could have been. The rest of the evening passes without too much awkwardness and a fair amount of laughter, and Puck thinks maybe he can manage the year. At least when it is just the glee club, he doesn't feel like he is hiding as much. He is still hiding a lot, though, and he can't help scowling for few moments during a lull in the conversation before he's once again caught up in the discussions and laughter.

When they arrive back at the school parking lot, everyone climbs out, giving each other hugs and exchanging 'see you tomorrows!' and 'seniors, baby!' before dispersing to their own vehicles. Santana and Brittany are the last to walk away from where Kurt, Finn, and Puck are standing.

"You could've dropped off Puck on the way here," Santana notes absently.

"Didn't even think about it," Kurt responds quickly in a way that tells Puck that he probably did think about it, at least briefly.

"Yeah, well. See you losers tomorrow," Santana grins to take the sting out of her words.

"Good night, Satan," Kurt smirks back, and the two girls climb into Brittany's car. After they've driven away, the three boys leave at last, Puck and Kurt joining hands with unspoken accord as soon as the doors are closed.

"Well, that didn't go so badly!" Finn enthuses, and Puck just turns and raises an eyebrow. "What? It didn't," he defends himself.

"I suppose so," Kurt concedes, and Puck supposes that, from Finn's point of view, it went well. Rachel apologized, Puck didn't accidentally out himself, and the day was relatively drama-free.

"You two notice the Samcedes goin' on?"

"Yes!" Kurt responds.

"Yeah, they seemed to be touching an awful lot," Finn agrees, wrinkling his brow. "You think they're dating?"

"I do," Puck nods. "The too-long hug, the touching, the sitting next to each other, and let's not forget the 'oh sure I'll drive Mercedes!' moment."

Kurt's nodding as Puck speaks. "Definitely. I think Mercedes kept her body turned towards him all day, even when she was ostensibly addressing someone else."

"Good point," Finn agrees. "Think they're going to tell anyone?"

Kurt shrugs. "I don't know. I think it would be rather hypocritical of us to complain if they don't."

Puck smiles and meets Kurt's eyes briefly, because yeah, the mention of an _us_ does all sorts of funny things to him.

They get to Puck's apartment building long before he'd prefer, and he considers asking Finn to take a walk around the block but then he catches sight of the clock and groans, running a hand over his face.

"Opening?"

"Every weekday morning," Puck confirms. "It's technically two and a half hours, so that's twelve and a half right there." He sighs and drops his head back against the seat, squeezing Kurt's hand gently. "I should go on up."

"Okay," Kurt pouts for just a second, but it's enough to draw Puck in, leaning over for a quick kiss.

"Be good," he says, squeezing Kurt's hand a final time before letting go and opening the door.

"I'm always good," Kurt grins, and Puck heads for the door without looking back.

If he looks back, he's never going to get to bed at a time that will feel good come 5 am in the morning

 

"Hi, Noah." His mom's sitting in the living room, reading a book, and she sets it down as he comes in. "How was your day?"

Puck pauses, standing still, and furrows his brow. "Weird. Good. Weird again. Hard. Disappointing." He crosses the room and sits down on the couch beside her. "Really, really hard," he finally settles on, and leans back.

"I wondered if it would be," she says with a nod, and Puck's suddenly really, really grateful for his mom. "You know I'm fine with however you want to do this, Noah, but are you sure you want to keep everything a secret? It's not going to get any easier."

Puck swallows but shakes his head. "No. As much as part of me wants to at least come out… this town scares me, Mom. The things that have happened to Kurt. Some people around here really would think Kurt managed to 'make me gay.'" His hands gesture sarcastically. "Then I'm going to get harassed _and_ things would get worse for Kurt, and it'd be harder for me to do anything about it." Puck shakes his head. "No, I don't see any other way to do this. This is hard, but at least it's not permanent-harm hard."

"You really think it would be that bad, Noah?"

"Honestly? Yeah, I think it could be." Puck frowns. "And, no, the other kids in glee club wouldn't be bad, but the more people that know, the more likely it is for even more people to find out."

 _I just can't be the reason behind anything causing Kurt any more pain_ , Puck would like to explain, but he's not sure that his mom would understand, and even if she did, she'd probably talk about how Puck shouldn't let anyone else dictate for him what he is and isn't comfortable revealing to others. She'd make it sound like Kurt was selfish, or Puck was giving Kurt too much power (whatever that means), but Puck knows what it is.

In her heart of hearts, his mom probably would, too, and Puck thinks that the idea of her baby boy feeling that way about someone would make her uncomfortable. In the end, he just won't even attempt to articulate all of his reasoning and motives.

His mom nods slowly, seeming to accept what he's saying. "Let me know if there's anything I can do, Noah," she says finally, holding his gaze for a moment, and Puck nods slowly.

"Thanks, Mom," he says at last. "I'd better go to bed."

"Good plan. I won't see you in the morning," she smirks at his grimace, "so have a good first day of school."

Puck rolls his eyes a little but smiles. "I'll try. Good night."

"Good night, Noah."

Puck nearly collapses into bed, bone tired and emotionally exhausted. He peels off his clothes and climbs under the covers. His eyes are already closing when his phone buzzes, and he considers not checking it, but ultimately Kurt's going to win out over everything, even sleep.

 _Want a ride tomorrow morning? I'll be there at 8 unless you tell me no. xx_

 _You're the *best*. C u then. xxx_


	7. Class of 2012

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Day of Senior Year

Puck has trouble getting out of bed, more than he has since he started working at Starbucks back in the spring. He grabs his backpack, plus his old backpack, which now has to hold clothes for school and clothes for football practice, too. He stumbles through to the kitchen, earbuds already in as he's trying to wake himself up, and scrounges up a little smile at the money his mom's left in the middle of the table "for lunch" along with a note about some boiled eggs in the refrigerator. Puck doesn't need his mom's money, but she likes to pay for the first day of school, and he's extraordinarily thankful for the eggs as he eats going down the stairs. He reaches the street and traces the familiar route, except the officer in the Rite-Aid parking lot stops him today.

"First day of school, son?" he asks, gesturing to the pair of backpacks Puck's wearing.

"Yes, sir. Last year," he grins.

"You have a good year, then. Go Titans!"

Puck laughs and nods. "Thanks!"

The store is quiet, as it always is when he opens, and Puck sets aside a scone for his own breakfast, plus one of Kurt's favorite red velvet whoopie pies, then starts the coffee brewing. The first customer appears just after 6 am, and Puck's kept busy for the first hour straight, until his manager shows. At 7:45, she glances at the clock and nods at Puck. "Finish that up, and then go ahead and change."

"Thanks," Puck says gratefully, and ducks into the bathroom to change. When he's finished, he grabs a coffee each for he and Kurt, plus the baked goods, shoulders his backpacks, and heads out the door. He glances at the clock and notes that he can probably get away with waiting until 7:55, even, if necessary, to change.

Kurt is waiting at the curb, as promised, door already ajar, and Puck passes the drinks and food in gratefully. He slings both bags into the floorboard and climbs in. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," Kurt grins, and Puck takes a minute to appreciate it, because it's not a look that often appears on Kurt's face while at school.

"I brought you food," Puck holds up the smaller bag and rattles it slightly.

"Ooh!" Kurt grabs it and squeals a little when he peeks inside. "Yay! Thank you!" He pulls the little treat out of the bag and takes a bite. "You bring me coffee _and_ whoopie pie, and you thank me for giving you a ride? I am clearly the winner here."

Puck chuckles and digs out his scone. "I guess we should go do this thing."

"I suppose so," Kurt acknowledges, sliding his sunglasses back over his eyes. "Good color on you, by the way," he remarks as he steers back into traffic.

"Yeah?" Puck asks, but he's smirking a little inwardly. He had thought the dark purple would look good on him, even if it was a little baggier than he preferred.

"Yes," Kurt looks over as they stop at a light and smirks. "And I think you know it, too."

Puck lets a small smile play on his lips and looks sidelong at Kurt. "Mmm. Guilty as charged," he finally admits.

"A little baggy, though," Kurt sniffs critically, and that's when Puck laughs.

"As it happens, I completely agree," Puck finally says.

"And here you were worried about our fashion clashing," Kurt says with a smirk.

"I'd still be in a t-shirt," Puck points out.

"I think I can deal with it if you're going to dress like you did Saturday and yesterday," Kurt says with a final sharp nod of the head.

Puck shrugs. "Okay." He's not going to argue. He looks over Kurt's outfit, then: grey jeans, the same sandals as the day before, and a deep blue shirt–he's pretty sure there's a specific name for the shade, but he doesn't know it. There's a yellow-green scarf tucked in to the top of the shirt, and Puck's pretty sure the grey fedora on the console is meant to be perched on top of Kurt's head.

No, Puck's never going to be into fashion, but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate it on Kurt. The shirt clings to Kurt's torso, letting Puck just see the definition of his muscles, and the jeans are definitely tight and stretchy. Kurt looks over at Puck and then smiles, amused. "I'll take that look to mean, 'yes, Kurt, you look amazing and handsome,' then."

Puck flushes a little and jerks his eyes up guiltily, but shrugs unapologetically. "I was thinking more like hot and sexy, but whatever."

There's a pleased look in Kurt's eyes, but then they pull into the parking lot and sigh in unison. "Football practice after school?"

Puck nods. "I'll see you in physics."

"Count on it." Kurt pulls the fedora on and hops out of the car. "Well, as you said yesterday. Let's do this thing."

They separate from each other as they approach the building, and Puck's lost sight of Kurt by the time he makes his way into the main hall. He has history first, much to his chagrin, and he stops by his locker to throw his clothes into it. A few guys slap him on the back and say hi, then Artie wheels up, "Hey, practice for glee after football, at my house." Puck nods and bumps fists before Artie continues down the hall. Puck finally slams his locker shut as Finn approaches.

"You in history with me?"

"If you have it first thing," Puck responds with a nod.

"Yep." Finn falls into step with him as they walk down the hall. "What's the rest of your schedule like?"

"Physics second, then English. Dual enrollment in the afternoons on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Ms. P set me up with an independent study for Tuesday and Thursday afternoons."

"Yeah? For what?"

"AP music theory." Puck shrugs. "I guess it's supposed to look good that I'm taking it, but it's not something that's been offered here before."

"Cool!" Puck glances sideways at Finn.

"Probably don't spread that around," he adds, and Finn nods.

"Here we go," Finn says, faking brightness, and they walk into the classroom with a sigh. Brittany's already sitting in the classroom, as is Sam, and they cross to sit behind the two of them.

"Hey, guys," Sam nods, and they all exchange fist bumps. "Anyone else have a hard time getting up so early?"

Finn and Brittany both nod, but Puck snorts. "What time did you get up?"

"Um, like 7," and the other two nod.

Puck stifles a yawn and takes a drink of his nearly-empty coffee cup. "I wish I had slept until 7. But I did have trouble getting up. At 5."

Sam's eyes widen. "Why were you up at 5?"

"Work," Puck shrugs. "If I open every day, I only have to fit in eight or so more hours during the rest of the week."

Brittany looks like she wants to say something, as does Sam, but then the teacher stands up at the front of the class, and Puck decides he should give it at least a few weeks before he takes naps through history. Yeah, Kurt promised to help him, but he's pretty sure Kurt'll be happier if he at least know what they're supposed to be covering in the class. Puck peeks at the front of the textbook the teacher hands out. Oh. Europe since 1400. Right. Why did they have to learn about this stuff, again? Puck was pretty sure a few minutes with Google and Wikipedia would give him most of the information, if he ever needed it. That was the good thing about music school. Most of the history was history of music, and at least he can see the point of that. If he gets in. He tries to ignore the doubting voice in the back of his head, which had just sounded like his mom, but now it sounds kind of like Rachel, too.

Puck dutifully takes notes on the lecture, because Kurt had suggested taking notes during the lecture and skipping the reading, if he was going to do one of the two. "Most teachers like to think that their students are listening. Essay questions, everything really, it's more likely to come from the lecture. Instead of sleeping through class and pulling an all-nighter to read the text, just take notes in class and skip the book entirely," Kurt had suggested, and since Kurt definitely gets better grades in history than Puck, Puck's willing to try it.

The funny thing about taking notes in class, Puck decides, is that it makes the class actually seem shorter, and first period being shorter seems like a good plan. The bell rings and everyone stands up, Puck fighting the impulse to dash out the door. For one thing, that was old Puck. For another, he probably can't get away with hurrying to physics every single day.

"What do you have next?" Brittany asks brightly.

"English," Sam and Finn reply together.

"Physics."

"Oh, _that's_ right," Finn begins, then stops abruptly.

"Oh, too bad, I have Spanish," Brittany concludes. "See you later." She turns right, and the three remaining turn left, walking together for a few feet before Sam and Finn head to English.

"Later," Puck offers with a wave, and they return the gesture. Puck increases his pace after that, and grins when he steps into the physics room. Kurt's sitting at a lab table at the back of the room, an empty stool beside him. Puck crosses the room quickly and stops beside it. "This seat taken?"

Kurt grins up at him. "As soon as you sit your ass down, it is."

"Good," Puck replies, doing just that. "How was… math, right?"

"Mathy," Kurt says, wrinkling his nose. "History?"

"Historical," Puck says, nodding sagely.

"We're so descriptive," Kurt laughs dryly.

Puck manages to follow the math, and Kurt seems to follow the concepts, so between the two of them, Puck figures they should manage to pass the class. Once the door is shut and everyone's concentration is at the front of the room, he slips his shoe off and then slides his foot over Kurt's ankle.

Kurt jumps and then glares at Puck, but Puck can see a dimple threatening to peek out, so he slips his toes under the hem of Kurt's jeans. Kurt tenses for a moment, then relaxes, changing the angle of his foot slightly. After a few more minutes pass, Kurt uses his other foot to slip off that sandal. They spend the rest of the class sliding their feet together, and Puck's pretty sure second period physics just became his favorite class of senior year. So sure that he's pretty reluctant to leave, and not just because he doesn't really like English.

"English next?" Kurt queries as he slips his sandal back on.

Puck nods, tying his own shoe.

"Think of poetry as song lyrics," Kurt offers as he shoulders his bag.

"You have English now, too, right?"

Kurt nods. "AP, in the quest of not having to take English ever again," he adds with a flourish.

Puck snorts. "Yeah, I get that." He smirks. "Be good."

"Oh, I'm _always_ good," Kurt says with a laugh before each walks into their classroom.

Fourth period, just before lunch, Puck finds himself gravitating towards the choir room. Fourth period is when they meet on Mondays and Fridays, so inevitably a lot of them find their way there the rest of the week. Schue's never there, because of some kind of language lab thing, but it's nice to hang out in the middle of the day.

When Puck walks in, Tina's sitting at the piano, fiddling with one hand, Mike's dancing to a tune that apparently only he can hear, and Santana's texting someone. He wonders absently if it's the same girl she went to the movies with. He sets his own bag down and pulls out one of his notebooks, marking a few changes he thought of while trying desperately not to fall asleep during English. Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the club trickles in. Kurt slumps against a chair near Puck's and pulls out his phone.

Puck nearly laughs when his phone vibrates just a minute later. _Boo_

 _Ahh! I'm so scared. :P_

 _Hmph. No one ever thinks I'm scary. Did we have physics homework?_

 _I thought keeping track of homework was your job_

 _Someone kept distracting me_

 _I guess we just have to hope the answer is no_

 _Suppose so._

 _Artie told you about practice at his house?_

 _Yes. I assume you're getting a ride there with Finn or Sam after practice?_

 _Yeah, whichever. Know anyone willing to give me a ride home_

 _I could be persuaded ;)_

 _:) xx_

 _xx_

Puck slips his phone back into his pocket before they give themselves away with their mad grins, and goes back to writing in his notebook, occasionally pulling over a guitar and testing out a note. Kurt's scribbling something in a notebook of his own, which means he either managed to land homework in his English class, or he's working on one of his application essays. The whole room is enveloped in a low murmur from the occasional conversation or note, and Puck lets himself relax, content in the moment.

If going to school only meant physics and this and glee club meetings, he'd come out in a heartbeat.

 

Puck doesn't see Kurt after that, but then remembers that Kurt normally will have a dual enrollment class on Tuesday afternoons, so he's probably gone home until time to head over to Artie's house. Puck can't help envying Kurt's ability to eat lunch somewhere other than the cafeteria every day of the week, if he chooses.

Puck's not sure what to expect from the independent study class, but it turns out that Ms. Pillsbury has it set up for Puck to go into the choir room, shut the doors, and study in there on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. She hands him two different textbooks and three suggested syllabi, telling him that he gets to decide which he'll use. She'll monitor his progress once he's made his choice, but basically, when she said independent study, that's exactly what she meant, and Puck feels a little proud that someone trusts him enough for this.

Unlike his classes earlier in the day, Puck doesn't notice how fast or slow time is passing, and the final bell of the day startles him. He gathers the materials up and walks to Ms. Pillsbury's office.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he apologizes. "I think I'll use these two," he shows her the book and syllabus he settled on, and puts the others in one of her chairs. "Oh, and I was wondering if you'd look these over." He unzips his backpack and hands her a copy of his essays for Hunter's application.

"Of course," she says with a smile. "Stop by on Thursday a little before the final bell and we can talk about them."

"Thanks, Ms. P," Puck nods and heads down the hall to his locker. He grabs his clothes and makes his way to the locker room to change, and it's in the middle of changing that he remembers exactly why he's not coming out.

He, Finn, Sam, and Mike are all changing on one side of the room, and Puck gives Finn a lot of credit for not letting on that he knows anything's different about Puck. They're not visible when someone enters the locker room, though, and some of the sophomores, just promoted from JV, start chattering as they change.

It starts out as what Puck's always thought of as (sadly) 'typical' locker-room trash talk, with the word fag being liberally tossed around. His hands tighten into solid fists as he grips his clothes, hiding his distress in the locker in front of him. He _wants_ to spring around the row of lockers and kick their asses. He remembers what he was was like as a sophomore, thinking he was a big deal, mouthing off and doing stupid shit. It's not a pretty picture, and if senior Puck could go back in time and give sophomore Puck a kick in the ass, he'd sure as hell do it. So he contemplates performing it as a service for the little turds, but ultimately gives up on the idea and continues changing.

They're all about to leave the locker room when the conversation a row over changes.

"Speaking of _fags_ , did you see that fruit loop senior with the hat and that scarf?" There's some mean laughter, and Puck can feel his jaw tighten. He looks over towards Finn, and their eyes meet. Finn looks equally pissed, and they nod in unison. Mike and Sam are already standing up, going around the other end of the row of lockers.

Puck and Finn slam their lockers shut and then walk around the corner together, glaring at the three that are left, one of them still in the midst of doing… something that's Puck's sure isn't meant to be complementary, the other two laughing hysterically.

"Shut up," Finn says, just loud enough to get their attention, and Puck cracks his knuckles, still glaring.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me you four are queer?" jeers one of the sophomores, the broadest of the three and one of the linemen. Puck thinks his name starts with an F, but he can’t remember it.

"Wouldn't matter if we were," Finn responds, "but right now, we're going to talk about how it's going to be. You know why?"

The three have backed up towards each other, huddled in the center of the row, as the four seniors advance.

"Because the guy you were just making fun of? Is our friend," Sam responds, and then Finn's speaking again.

"He's also my brother."

Finn, Puck, and Sam each step up to one of the sophomores, pinning them against the lockers, Mike still watching, arms crossed.

"We…we didn't mean anything," one of the laughers from before insists, looking terrified. _Rickenbacker_ , Puck’s mind supplies, _Kicker_. Puck grins ferally.

"Yes, you did," he says. "I know you did, because I used to be just like you. A sorry asshole who put other people down just to feel better about myself." Puck leans in closer. "Here's the new rules, asshole. One, don't use the word 'fag' in this locker room or anywhere else any of us can hear you. That goes for faggot, fairy, homo, fudge-packer, pansy, queer, or any other derogatory term you can come up with." Puck feels like he's about to throw up, and he wonders if anyone who's not gay could possibly understand how completely disgusted he is to even say those words out loud.

"Two," Finn picks up where Puck left off. "Kurt–that's my brother, by the way–is off limits. In here, out there, anywhere. Completely. off. limits."

"And third," Sam finishes, "don't break the other two rules if you'd like to continue playing varsity football. Or live a long, healthy life."

The three offenders nod, eyes wide, and they step back to let them go out to the field. Sam and Mike follow close behind them, clearly not trusting them, and Finn hangs back with Puck.

"You okay?" he whispers after a moment, and Puck just shakes his head. No, he's not okay.

"Go on," he finally rasps out, motioning Finn towards the door. The door's just swinging shut when he lunges for the toilet and loses his lunch. His stomach heaves for a few moments, and he's just flushing the toilet when Beiste bangs on the door, opening it a crack.

"Puckerman! You coming?"

"Yeah, sorry, Coach," he responds, crossing to the sinks and rinsing out his mouth. "Must've eaten something bad at lunch."

She looks at him skeptically, but sniffs once and nods, accepting his explanations. "As long as you're sure you can practice."

"I'm sure," Puck nods, and jogs out onto the field.

Practice turns out to be exactly what Puck needs. The physical exertion both wears him out and lets him work out the aggression he's been feeling since the little sophomores started talking. When everyone clumps back into the locker room, that trio looks at the quartet of senior Glocks and falls silent.

Puck's pretty silent throughout the time he's showering and changing, too, and he's shoving his feet into his shoes before he speaks. "Can I hitch a ride?" he says as Finn sits down beside him.

"To Artie's? Yeah, no problem."

Puck nods his thanks and stands up, slamming his locker shut. "Meet you in the parking lot."

Puck sits on Finn's tailgate, waiting, watching the rest of the team filter into the lot and leave. Sam and Mike head out just a few minutes before Finn finally appears.

"Sorry, Beiste stopped me, something about recruiting,"

"No problem." Puck hops down from the tailgate and climbs into the passenger seat.

Finn glances over at him, opens his mouth, closes it, and repeats the whole sequence.

"Just say it," Puck says wearily. "I promise not to bite your head off. Unless you're really stupid."

Finn rolls his eyes. "Thanks. Just… I know I asked before, but– _are_ you okay?"

Puck purses his lips. He's tempted just to say yes, because it's the answer that people usually want to hear, but he's got a really limited number of people with whom he can be anywhere close to honest. "Not really," he finally says with a sigh. "I'll muddle through, though." Which is also true. All he has to do is not be too stupid.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Finn nods. They fall silent for the rest of the drive. Artie's family lives near the country club, same as Quinn used to, so like everything in Lima, it's a relatively short drive. Everyone else is clearly already there, and Puck gathers his stuff from the back of Finn's truck and throws it into Kurt's Navigator before heading in. Finn looks at him a little funny.

"What?"

"You know Kurt's door code?" He gestures at the number pad, where Puck's pressed in the numbers to unlock the doors.

"Uh, yeah," Puck raises his eyebrows as he locks the door and shuts it. "I have for months. Why?" The third time they went shopping together, when they were planning Hannah's birthday party, Kurt had sent him to take some bags out before they were done, and instead of handing him a key, he had Puck memorize the code. Puck's been using it ever since.

"Oh. No reason," Finn shrugs, and they head towards the door.

Artie's mom lets them in, motioning them through to the family room off the kitchen. "There's a few snacks if you boys need them," she mentions to Artie, who nods, and then she disappears.

Puck flops onto the only open seat in the room, which is conveniently next to Kurt, thanks to Finn claiming a recliner. Kurt gives Puck an odd look that he can't quite decipher, but when Puck shoots him a questioning look in return, Kurt just shakes his head and mouths "Later."

"Practice" consists of establishing who's singing which lines, and Puck confirming that he'll bring his own guitar on Thursday so he and Sam can play the song without the band, and within an hour, they're all trickling out the door.

"Are you eating dinner at home tonight, or with Rachel?" Kurt asks Finn. "I told Dad we'd each figure something out on our own."

"With Rachel. I'll see you at home." Finn gets into his truck, somehow reminding Puck more of a puppy than a senior in high school, and drives away.

Kurt and Puck are carefully silent and composed until they're a short distance away from Artie's house, and then Puck reaches for Kurt, awkwardly lying across the console to put his hand on Kurt's thigh and his head on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt tilts his head to press his cheek to the top of Puck's head briefly. "What exactly went down in the locker room?"

"How'd you hear about that?"

"Mike and Sam." Puck can practically hear Kurt rolling his eyes. "I don't know if they were truly wanting me to let them know if some idiot underclassmen said something to me, or just wanting a chance to display machismo."

"Probably both," Puck says after a minute. "How do you do it? Not let it eat at you?"

"Oh, it does. There's a number of things I do to not let it _show_ , though," Kurt corrects him. "There's the ever-popular technique of desperately searching in my locker for something. Holding on to something very tightly. Coughing fit. Allergy attack–that one's good, you can get away with sneezing, hiccuping, watery eyes, runny nose, you name it." Kurt's voice is purposely light, and Puck's pretty sure if it wasn't, they'd both be in trouble. "And, of course, beginning to rant about something else. I use fashion or music, but it can be anything. Sports, a teacher, whatever."

Puck looks up slightly as Kurt makes a turn. "Where're we going?"

"To get food," Kurt clarifies, pulling up in front of the take-out place. "And then…" he shrugs, and Puck lifts his head fully to look at Kurt, who's blushing just a little. Puck grins.

"I can get behind that plan," he says, smirking and nodding.

"I thought you'd like it," Kurt responds with a smirk of his own, then steps lightly out of the car.

They make easy conversation with the woman working in the store as they wait on their meal, and then take the two bags out to the car and head to Kurt's house. Kurt thinks it would be a good idea to eat with chopsticks, and for reasons Puck isn't quite sure of, he agrees. The two of them spend most of the meal laughing hysterically before giving up and using forks. Puck grabs the empty containers and tosses them in the trash while Kurt throws the forks into the dishwasher, and then Kurt slides an arm around Puck's waist, steering both of them into the living room.

"How long until people get home?" Puck can't resist asking as Kurt pulls them both down onto the couch.

"Probably forty-five minutes or an hour," Kurt admits.

"Do you have something against rules that you've helped make, or something?"

"Apparently?" Kurt offers weakly, leaning into Puck's side.

"Okay." Puck shifts his body so he's sitting sideways, one leg outstretched, and Kurt pulls away for a moment before resettling in the V of Puck's legs. "C'mere," he tugs at Kurt, urging him to slide a little further up Puck's chest.

Kurt obliges, mouth resting next to Puck's cheek. "Here?"

Puck forgoes answering in favor of occupying his mouth, and Kurt's, in a different way. A corner of his mind informs him that he's not properly kissed Kurt in more than twenty-four hours, and another corner suggests that this is much too long of a time frame, and he should try to make sure it doesn't happen again.

Puck agrees with that corner of his brain.

He sweeps his tongue over Kurt's lips, and has the gratification of Kurt immediately letting his mouth fall open, sending his own tongue into Puck's mouth. Kurt shifts his position so that he's almost lying on top of Puck, allowing them to deepen the kiss further. Puck slides his hands up Kurt's back and then slowly works at removing the scarf from around Kurt's neck. He lets his hand linger in the dips and curves of Kurt's neck, feeling the sinews and tendons flex and move under his fingertips. At last, he untangles the scrap of silk and tosses it aside, running his hands over Kurt's neck again, fingers tugging gently at the hair on the back of Kurt's head.

He feels Kurt's hands slip under his own t-shirt, fingers playing against his skin, urging the fabric upward, and when Kurt breaks their kiss, pushing himself back, Puck takes the hint, whipping the shirt over his head and sending it to join the scarf in the floor. Then he reaches for Kurt, tugging Kurt's shirt free of his jeans and then taking his time unbuttoning each individual button. His hands linger on Kurt's cotton-covered shoulders and then his bare arms as Puck pushes the shirt slowly off, leaving Kurt in a v-neck undershirt that he removes himself.

"Oh, fuck," Puck groans as Kurt lowers himself down again, their bare chests sliding together. " _Kurt_." He finds Kurt's mouth again, kissing him slowly and carefully, sweeping his tongue through Kurt's mouth again and again, and he can feel Kurt hardening against his thigh, and then Kurt slowly begins to move against him. Puck's own erection is caught between their bodies, and when Kurt moves, his jeans and chest move against Puck.

Puck is fine with the state of affairs, starting to move in a rhythm that enhances Kurt's own, when a thought flashes across his brain, and suddenly, Puck feels like he has to act on it. He carefully pulls away, locking his gaze with Kurt's.

"Can–" he starts, and the words catch in his mouth. A wave of further desire crashes over him, and it takes everything he has not to shudder visibly. He wants, _needs_ , Kurt, just Kurt, nothing else, and even though he has no reason to expect rejection, he knows he'll be devastated if Kurt turns him down.

"What, baby?" Kurt murmurs, and damn. Puck's breath hitches and he lets out of a low moan as Kurt trails a hand over his nipple.

"Please," Puck gasps. "Please let me." He stops again, fumbling for words, and one of hands finds the bulge in the front of Kurt's jeans.

"Touch me?" Kurt asks, and Puck shakes his head.

"No, I mean yes, but not… need to taste you."

"Ohhh." It's a breathy moan that goes straight to Puck's own cock, and he thrusts upward again, without conscious thought. Kurt leans down to whisper in Puck's ear, Puck's eyes falling closed as soon as he feels the hot breath against his earlobe. "Yeah. Okay." Kurt's voice is rich, thick with desire that echoes Puck's own, and Puck nods.

"Yes. Yes."

Kurt pulls back, sitting on his heels for a moment before sliding his legs in front of him and leaning back on the opposite arm of the couch. Puck can feel his mouth drop open, and shifts to crawl over Kurt. He uses one hand to prop himself up, kissing Kurt deeply, the other hand tugging carefully at the button of Kurt's jeans. He fumbles with it for a moment, the material stretched tight over Kurt's erection, and pulls back finally in order to complete his mission. He slides the zipper down. The tip of Kurt's erection peeks out, more and more exposed as Puck draws down the zipper, and his mouth goes dry.

"Holy fuck," he mumbles. "Holy fucking… you sat next to me… you…" Puck stares at the evidence in front of him, the picture clear. Kurt's not wearing any underwear, and part of Puck is pretty sure it's only been that way since Kurt headed to Artie's for the glee club practice, but the rest of Puck doesn't care, and would rather think about sitting next to Kurt at school while Kurt paraded around, no underwear beneath the tight grey jeans.

Kurt's peering up at Puck through his eyelashes, a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips, and he doesn't respond, just nods slowly, smile growing larger and smugger with each nod of his head.

Puck bends down, kissing Kurt roughly, his tongue thrusting between Kurt's lips. Kurt arches up towards him, his arms going around Puck's neck, holding him close, not allowing Puck to break the kiss. Puck thrusts down, his own erection pushing down in an impatient, uncoordinated cycle. Their kiss grows increasingly sloppy, and Puck feels as if he's never been more turned on in his life. When Kurt's arms loosen, he starts working his way down Kurt's chest, his hands urging Kurt's hips to lift, sliding off Kurt's jeans.

Somehow, working together, they manage to remove Kurt's jeans, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothes, and Puck sits back on his heels for a moment, surveying the sight in front of him.

Kurt looks like a painting, Puck decides, a work of art. His arms are flung over his head, flexed just enough to give them definition. His eyes are bright, pupils wide, their stunning color fixed on Puck's own eyes, set just above flushed, dimpled cheeks. His mouth is parted, lips plush and red, all too ready to kiss and be kissed again.

The mark Puck left on him two days earlier is still dark and prominent on his shoulder, and there's a dusting of hair across his chest and down across the flat, toned stomach. Kurt's legs fall apart, his pelvis bones sharp and angular under the skin, the legs slim and pale. And of course, Kurt's erection stands up proudly, heavy above his balls. Puck pucks a hand on Kurt's thigh to steady himself, admiring the contrast between his skin and Kurt's, and takes a ragged breath.

"You are _beautiful_ ," Puck finally breathes out, trying and failing to maintain enough oxygen to his brain. Kurt blushes, and it's his whole body that's blushing. Puck didn't think it was possible to get even harder, but he would swear that that's exactly what's happening, especially when just a second later, Kurt lowers his arms, pulling and tugging at Puck's jeans, and before Puck is really sure how it happened, he's naked, too, Kurt's eyes running over him, and he stills, barely breathing, as Kurt licks his lips slowly and gives a little moan that Puck's pretty damn sure indicates approval.

"Amazing," Kurt's voice murmurs, and it's so low, a little raspy, lower even than when Kurt tried singing Mellencamp, and it hits Puck that, _fuck_ , he's probably the only one who's ever heard Kurt's voice like _this_ , and it's that thought that makes him stop staring. He wants to see what other new sounds he can coax out of Kurt, and he bends down, taking the head of Kurt's cock in his mouth.

He sucks at it tentatively, circling his tongue around, slowly taking in more of Kurt's length. Kurt's hands are scrambling at the cushions of the couch, his hips rigid, and when Puck looks up at Kurt's face, his head is thrown back, mouth fallen open. Puck wishes that they had a camera with a timer, because he's pretty sure they'd make an amazingly sexy picture.

"Oh, god," Kurt groans. "Yes. Yes."

If Puck had harbored any doubts about being gay, which he didn't, this would have put them to rest. It's the most intoxicating thing Puck has ever experienced. He can feel Kurt falling apart beneath him. He pulls more of Kurt's cock into his mouth, increasing the suction, and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes at the scent that washes over him. It's minty and citrusy, probably from Kurt's shower products, but also a little sweaty and unbelievably male, and Puck's a little worried about coming all over the couch just from smelling Kurt's cock.

He reaches a hand up and slides it under Kurt's sac, carefully fondling his balls even as he begins to slide up Kurt's cock, then back down again. Kurt's moans are interspersed with a steady stream of "oh gods," and then Puck goes down farther than he managed before, and Kurt says just one word, "PUCK," his voice strangled and low, reverberating around the room. Puck hums in satisfaction, earning a startled yelp from Kurt, followed by "Yes, god, more, more, please, Puck, Puck, please, god, oh _fuck_ , PLEASE," in a constant, nearly repeating stream.

The sound of his name and _fuck_ both spilling from Kurt's mouth makes Puck realize that he's not going to last any longer than Kurt. He slides his other hand to his own erection, pumping it a few times and feeling that there's already pre-come gathering at the tip. Realization hits him like a train–the strange, salty taste that's steadily increasing in his mouth is Kurt's own fluid, and the thought makes him increase his speed, trying to go deeper with each movement, often succeeding. He squeezes Kurt's balls softly, trying to judge how much pressure to use. Kurt arches his hips up, the rigidity with which he's held them giving way at last.

Puck forces his eyes open, looking up through his eyelashes to drink in Kurt's appearance. His pale chest is covered in splotches of pink and red, his head tilted so far back that all Puck can see is the underside of Kurt's chin. Just as he thinks that, Kurt forces his head up, and Puck's gaze locks with Kurt's own. It pierces through all of Puck's self-control, and he moves his hand on his own erection frantically as Kurt begins to shudder, stream after stream of fluid shooting into Puck's mouth. He starts to gag, then moves slightly, pulling back and letting it slide down his throat.

He continues sucking until Kurt stills, and as Kurt does, Puck feels the start of his own orgasm. Kurt's hand runs over the back of his head, and Puck mewls, turning his head into Kurt's hand, releasing Kurt's now-softened cock at last. Puck's hand works at his own cock for a moment more Puck collapses onto his side, completely spent. He lies there, his head resting on Kurt's hipbone, his legs bent uncomfortably, for a long moment, breathing heavily, when Kurt shifts and then slides into the floor.

Puck gasps at the first brush of Kurt's tongue over his hand, and he realizes that Kurt is methodically and precisely devouring every drop of fluid that Puck released. It feels like minutes before Kurt appears satisfied, climbing back onto the couch, and Puck sits up, pulling Kurt into his arms and kissing him slowly.

He releases Kurt reluctantly, staring into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt smiles, resting his head on Puck's shoulder.

"Mmm. Are you sure you've never done that before?" Kurt finally asks. Puck just nods. "Well. Natural talent, I guess," Kurt grins, kissing the side of Puck's neck.

Puck feels like he should make a smug remark, or at least smirk, but he's still coming down off his high and all he can think to say is a mumbled, "Best thing ever."

Kurt lifts his head at that and kisses him again, full on the mouth. "God, yes," he agrees, eyes sparkling.

They sit like that, huddled together, for a few minutes longer before Kurt says with no little reluctance that they should get dressed. "Finn or Dad could be home in ten minutes or so," he explains, handing Puck his t-shirt. Puck redresses rapidly, watching Kurt slide on his jeans and undershirt, leaving the blue shirt unbuttoned and forgoing the scarf entirely. Then Kurt sits back down and pulls Puck to him.

Puck doesn't mean to fall asleep, but he's been up for hours, and had an pretty orgasm on top of that, so when Kurt's arm settles around his shoulders and his eyes want to drift closed, he lets them, face pressed into Kurt's side, the mint/citrus/sweat smell of Kurt mingled now with another scent, and there's a smile on Puck's face when he drifts off to sleep.

He rouses slowly, low voices talking, and he decides to keep his eyes shut and face planted against Kurt. He thinks he's not been asleep for long, maybe fifteen minutes, tops, and his head's still a little fuzzy anyway.

"He's asleep?" he hears Finn whisper incredulously, and then he feels the muscles in Kurt's chest move as he nods.

"He's been up since 5, probably," Kurt points out, volume low. "Not surprising, really."

There's silence for a few minutes, and Puck's beginning to wonder if Finn left the room when he speaks up again. "Are you going to wake him up soon?"

There's no reply from Kurt, but Finn chuckles. "You should see your face, pouting. Yes, Kurt, at the end of the day, you have to give your boyfriend back."

Something happy and fierce pools in Puck's belly, and Kurt's arm tightens around him. The other runs softly over his head, shaved portion and mohawk alike. He can sort of picture Kurt's face, and then Kurt murmurs something that Finn obviously doesn't catch, because he asks what Kurt said, and Kurt says, louder, "Nothing important."

Puck's pretty sure, though, that Kurt said something along the lines of "But I don't wanna."

Finn accepts Kurt's claim, though, and then Puck hears Finn's feet going heavily up the stairs. Puck waits a moment before moving, and it's not entirely put-on. He yawns and sits up a little, resting his head on Kurt's shoulder.

"I need to get you home," Kurt says quietly, and Puck nods in acknowledgement, even though he doesn't really want the evening to end. He knows though that the moment will be broken, somehow, once Kurt's dad arrives, and he reluctantly straightens.

"Okay," he finally speaks, voice a little raspy. "I guess we can do that." He stands, stretching, and reaches out his hand for Kurt. Kurt pulls himself up but doesn't drop Puck's hand, keeping it clasped in his own as they walk out through the garage, until they're standing in front of Kurt's Navigator. Kurt steps closer, kissing him gently first on the mouth and then on the cheek, and then drops Puck's hand at last, unlocking the vehicle.

They're silent on the short ride to Puck's apartment building, the radio playing at a low volume. When Kurt puts it in park, he speaks at last. "I'll see you at 8."

Puck smiles slowly and nods. "I'll look forward to it."

"Be good," Kurt says through the open window as Puck reaches the door.

"I'm always good," Puck calls back, just before the door closes behind him.


	8. Personal Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brothers, and adapting

Kurt’s pensive when he returns home, and slips quietly into the house. He pads down the hall to the kitchen, where his dad sits at the table, flipping through the mail.

“Hey, Kurt,” Burt looks up with a smile. “Good first day of school?”

“I think so,” Kurt allows. “Of course, I only have three courses at McKinley, which means three courses period until mid-September.” He sits down across from his dad. “I was going to ask you if you thought I could pick up a few extra shifts until then. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to work come October and November.”

Burt pauses, setting the mail to the side. “Well. I guess that’d be all right. What time and what days?”

“After lunch, in case I want to eat at school, I guess, so around one until four or five, and only until 3 on Thursdays.” Kurt thinks for a moment, then continues. “Definitely Tuesdays, though. I guess Mondays and maybe Wednesdays but not Fridays?” he concludes.

“So basically whenever you want to show up, since you’re the boss’s kid?” Burt grins at his son.

Kurt affects a look of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s able to maintain it for a moment before they laugh together.

“I think I’m going to head on upstairs,” Burt says then, pushing back from the table. “You headed to bed?”

“Soon,” Kurt allows. “I think I’ll grab a snack first.” Burt nods and leaves the kitchen, and Kurt pulls out a cup of caramel yogurt and opens it, stirring it around with a plastic spoon before walking up the stairs.

He stops outside Finn’s room and knocks, pushing the door open further with his foot. “Hey,” he calls, his voice muffled through a bite of yogurt.

“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Finn says, looking up from his sports magazine. “‘Sup?”

Kurt crosses into the room, spinning Finn’s desk chair around and sitting in it. “So, you want to give the actual story, without added machismo or an attempt to completely downplay it?”

“Huh?” Finn says, looking confused, and it’s almost completely genuine. “I don’t know what machismo is or what you’re talking about right now, sooo I’m just gonna finish this article.”

“Cut the crap, Finn,” Kurt rolls his eyes. “Locker room this afternoon. Mike and Sam already spilled the beans.” He takes another bite of yogurt. “And machismo is... like trying to seem extra-masculine.”

“Like being macho?” Finn asks, evasively.

“Yes, and stop avoiding the subject.”

“Look, it wasn’t that big a deal,” Finn says, setting down his magazine and looking at Kurt. “I mean, it was, in a way, because those kids were jackasses and needed to have their heads straightened out, but nobody had to hit anybody, and I don’t think there’s gonna be any more problems.”

“And that’s why Mike and Sam told me, specifically, that I should let one of you four know if some sophomore football players started hassling me? Because it wasn’t a big deal?” Kurt raises an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving.

“They didn’t understand how things work and now they do,” Finn says. “If they forget, I wanted to make sure they get reminded real quick.”

“Your evasive answers are decidedly non-reassuring,” Kurt frowns. “On top of Puck’s complete refusal to discuss it apart from asking how I don’t let ‘it’ eat at me.” Kurt stares at his brother. “Talk, Finn.”

“Dammit, Kurt,” Finn says, his voice full of frustration, or at least as much frustration as Finn ever directs at Kurt. “Can’t you let it drop this time?”

Now Kurt’s scowling at his yogurt, stabbing at it. “Your constant refusal to discuss it and continued insistence that it should be dropped tends to lead me to the opposite conclusion.”

Finn makes a small growling-groan noise and stares up at the ceiling. “Fine,” he says, tersely. “I didn’t want you to know that some little douchebags were saying shit about you. Not just about gay kids in general. About you. I’m not gonna put up with that shit and neither are the rest of the guys, but you shouldn’t have to hear about it every time some idiot says the word ‘fag,’ ok?”

Kurt’s very interested in his yogurt for a moment, scraping the sides and bottom in an attempt to get the last bit out. “Mmm,” he finally responds. “People at McKinley talking shit about me isn’t anything new, Finn. Was it the shoes? The scarf?” Kurt shrugs. “Maybe they don’t like the color blue.” He’s quiet for a moment. “And I appreciate your attempts to spare my feelings, really I do.” He looks up at last, pinning Finn with his eyes. “But that’s somehow not quite what I was asking, now was it?”

Finn looks away. His face tightens at the corners of his eyes and he presses his lips together so tightly that they lose their color. Without looking at Kurt, Finn says, softly, “No, it wasn’t what you were asking, but I hoped you’d be satisfied when you heard it.”

“Stupid,” Kurt mutters, not even sure himself if he’s talking about himself, Finn, Puck, or some combination thereof.

“Yeah, well.”

Kurt sighs and leans forward. “Finn. Please.”

“It was bad, ok,” Finn says, his voice rough and low. “Just, it was bad.”

“You’re not making me feel any better,” Kurt mutters quietly. “Just the opposite, in fact.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel better,” Finn snaps. “I’m trying to make you drop it so I don’t have to tell you--” he breaks off suddenly.

“Tell me what?” Kurt’s voice is equally snappish. “Fine, is it better if I go pump the story out of Puck tomorrow? Since he so obviously wants to talk about it in detail.”

“No!” Finn says, quickly. “Don’t. It’s...when I said it was bad, I don’t just mean what they said about you. They’re stupid little assholes and yeah, they were talking some shit, but like you said, it wasn’t anything new. That’s not the worst part.”

Kurt sits back in the chair, sagging a little. “Dammit, Finn. _What happened?_ ”

“Puck happened,” Finn responds. “Puck was _fierce_ , man. I thought those kids were gonna piss themselves. He made it pretty damn clear that he wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of talk, period...and we made it pretty damn clear we were going to back him up on that.”

“Okay,” Kurt says slowly. “That sounds... not that bad. So what was this worst part?”

“After,” Finn sighs. “The worst part was after, when everybody else left.”

Kurt just raises an eyebrow. “Continue.”

“I’ve never seen him look like that, dude,” Finn says, shaking his head. “And I’ve seen him look _rough_. You remember how he was after Quinn had the baby? That look he had for a while?”

Kurt’s slowly crushing the yogurt cup in his hand, and he jumps when the plastic spoon snaps. “I remember,” he says.

‘“Well, now combine that with the look somebody gets when you punch them in the gut, and you’ve kind of got an idea of what I’m talking about. It was bad, Kurt, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it,” Finn’s eyes look a little shiny and he rolls them up towards the ceiling and takes a deep, shaky breath. “And I’m pretty sure he was puking his guts up after he sent me out of the locker room.”

“Dammit!” explodes from Kurt’s mouth, and his knuckles are white around the broken spoon. “Dammit!” he repeats.

Finn puts out his hand, tentatively. When Kurt doesn’t flinch away, Finn rests his hand on his step-brother’s shoulder. He doesn’t pat or anything, just rests his hand there, firmly.

Kurt closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “Finn...” he trails off. “It’s one less day than it was this morning. Right?”

Finn doesn’t answer. He looks at Kurt for a long time, his hand still resting on Kurt’s shoulder, and suddenly, spontaneously, pulls Kurt into his arms. He hugs Kurt hard and it reminds Kurt of the way his father used to hug him when he was small and hurt himself.

Kurt just curls into the embrace, and lets the tears fall. He’s made it this far; it’s what he often tells himself, when he’s honest. He rarely lets himself cry, and the tears fall faster, because in the end, sometimes crying is all he can do.

Finn just holds Kurt tighter and rocks him a little, like he’d rock a child that can’t stop crying. He doesn’t make any sound or try to say anything comforting.

The tears slowly run their course, and Kurt sits in Finn’s embrace, perfectly still.

 

Wednesday starts like Tuesday did, except Puck wakes up a little easier, and he's got an awesome memory in his head as he walks to work, listening to music. Everything else about the morning is familiar and routine, except he waits until 7:50 to change out of his work clothes, and it's 8 on the dot when he emerges from the Starbucks.

Kurt's not waiting in the driver's seat this morning, though; he's standing against the passenger door. He's wearing what Puck privately thinks are sinfully short tennis shorts in a pristine white and a short-sleeved mint-green dress shirt buttoned all the way up, even though he's not wearing a tie. His sunglasses are in place, and he's wearing those white boots that he got last spring. Puck's appreciative, if a little disappointed about the boots. Then again, _legs_.

Kurt's smiling as Puck approaches, and Puck really wants to walk up to him, slide an arm around his waist, and kiss him good morning. He settles for handing Kurt his coffee and then trailing his fingers along Kurt's forearm. Kurt uses his free hand to squeeze Puck's shoulder gently, and they stand like that for a moment before breaking apart.

"Morning," Kurt says softly, and Puck grins before replying.

"A good one, so far."

Kurt walks around the Navigator to climb in, and Puck settles into his seat as well. "Are you working this afternoon?"

"Yeah. Starting at one. It's only a couple of hours, but that's fifteen bucks or so."

"Lunch?" Kurt turns to look at him, cocking his head inquisitively.

"Yes," Puck agrees.

Kurt reaches across the car and twines his fingers around Puck's. There's a mournful sounding song playing on the radio, and Puck feels like time is slowing gently around them. It would be perfect except for the approaching sight of the McKinley campus. "School sweet school," he groans, reluctantly pulling his hand back.

"At least today is short," Kurt shrugs. "Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Look on the bright side?"

"I'm not sure it really applies to high school," Puck offers. "Seems like most things in high school, the glass being half-empty would be a _good_ thing."

Kurt cracks a grin. "This is true." They've reached the building by now, walking in side by side, and Puck follows Kurt for a few steps towards Kurt's locker.

"Maybe you can try to check if we have homework in physics today. Just sayin'."

Kurt rolls his eyes but there's that dimple peeking out. "Maybe you should try not to distract me."

Puck holds up his hands, palm out (and coffee cup out). "Not my fault that some things inspire distraction." He smirks and turns, leaving Kurt with a little flush of pink on his cheeks.

Puck swings by his locker and makes it into history just before the bell. He sits down by Finn, and after a few minutes, notices Finn giving him a strange look. "What is it?" he finally whispers. "Do I have coffee grounds on my face or something?" Puck's _pretty_ sure that Kurt would have mentioned something like that, but he can't quite decipher the look on Finn's face.

Finn shakes his head, obviously trying to clear his expression at the same time. "No. No, nothing's wrong."

"Pretty sure the look on your face is telling a different story."

"It's nothing," Finn insists. "Really."

"Ookay," Puck replies slowly, still not believing Finn, but turns his attention (or part of it, anyway), back to learning about some guy named Martin Luther. Which, Puck was pretty sure that that dude was _not_ white and lived in Georgia or something. No wonder Mercedes is always talking about "whitewashing history."

Puck's walking out the door and headed towards physics when he hears Finn talking to Sam as they turn down the hall to their next class. It sounds kind of like Finn's not happy with Sam, and then Puck hears the words "locker room" and "asking questions," before they are out of earshot, and Puck's stomach kind of sinks. Right. Kurt probably went home and interrogated Finn.

Fuck.

Well, hopefully Finn didn't tell him too much. And what Finn didn't know, he couldn't tell anyone anyway.

Puck slides onto his stool, noticing he's beaten Kurt there today, and looks up at the board. Oh. Convenient. Homework assignments for the next two weeks. Kurt sits down then. "What's up?"

"Look," Puck points. "Homework. Convenient of her."

Kurt presses his lips together in the way that tells Puck he's trying not to laugh. "At least there wasn't any due today."

"Nope. Friday, I guess. Work on it during fourth?" Kurt nods.

Puck tries to be good. He tries to pay attention, but part of the lecture is the same thing they did the day before, so it's doubly boring today. Kurt's copying the diagram from the board, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. Puck finally decides he's paid attention for long enough, and slides his hand across the table before dropping it onto Kurt's leg. Kurt jumps a little, but doesn't look at him.

Well. That won't do.

Puck skates his fingertips over Kurt's skin, letting them drop closer to Kurt's inner thigh. Kurt shivers after a moment, and Puck smirks. Game on.

That's apparently what Kurt thinks, too, because a moment later, he lets his legs fall apart, creating a huge V, and Puck bites his lip. He increases the pressure on his fingertips, moving his hand farther away from Kurt's knee. He glances at Kurt's face; the other boy is still looking at the front of the room, but he's biting his bottom lip, and there's a little bit of color in his cheeks.

It isn't long, though, before Kurt puts down his pen, and slides his own hand onto Puck's thigh. He abandons all pretense of intending otherwise and moves it slowly until it's resting on Puck's inner thigh, high up. Puck can't decide if it's uncomfortably high or very comfortably high. It would be easy to decide if he weren't in physics class while the teacher lectures about Newton and inertia; that would be very comfortable. But he is in physics class, and Kurt's sitting beside him, looking very innocent.

Puck slides his own hand higher, letting his fingers dip under the hem of Kurt's shorts, even though part of his brain is screaming that this is a bad idea. Because making out in the back of physics class would not be a good idea, and that's where his brain is already going. He's still himself, though, and he's not going to be the one to back down. Even though it sounds stupid in his head, by itself, and he's sure it would sound even stupider out loud.

Luckily for Puck, Kurt's smarter than he is, and he moves his own hand to take Puck's in it. Kurt lets their hands fall in the space between them, flicking his eyes in the direction of Puck's right hand and then his own abandoned pencil. Puck smiles and resumes taking notes. He has a feeling neither one of them will have a complete set of notes for this class, at least not on their own.

When the bell rings, Kurt releases his hand and grabs his own books. "See you later," he whispers, brushing past Puck on his way to the door. Puck can't help it, and turns to watch him walk away. Then he catches himself, and hurries to collect his own things, walking into English just as the bell rings. He slides into the last remaining seat, which means Rachel's sitting next to him.

"You okay?" she whispers. "You look flustered."

"Ah, yeah." Puck nods. "Just had to hurry to get here."

Rachel nods and accepts his answer, and Puck sends up a little prayer for that, because what are the odds? The teacher is lecturing about utopia and something called dystopia, which doesn't sound like a great fun thing, if Puck gets the meaning right. He notices Rachel's scribbling frantically, transcribing the lecture almost word for word, and decides that he can probably convince her to give him a copy of her notes. Which is good, because he's got a tune stuck in his head, and he needs to write it down before he goes back out into the hallways. He pushes his notebook aside and digs in his backpack, pulling out the other notebook, and turns to a fresh page, quickly marking out the ledger lines.

He's been engrossed for close to ten minutes when Rachel pokes his arm. "What are you doing?" she whispers.

"Shh," Puck mutters, distracted, putting up a finger to indicate she should wait. She's silent for at least a minute before she pokes his arm again. "Later," Puck insists, shaking his head and not looking up at her. She tries another time before sitting back in a huff.

Puck's almost done when the bell rings, and he scribbles out the last few measures as the room empties. When he looks up, Rachel's standing in front of his desk. "Talk," she says, tugging on his arm. "What were you doing?"

"Writing," Puck replies shortly, tucking the notebook back away.

"You were writing music," she accuses, and Puck rolls his eyes.

"Congratulations on being able to read music, well done," he snorts, turning down the hall.

"Where are you going? Are you going to the choir room?" Puck nods once. "How long have you been writing music? Is that whole notebook full? Why doesn't anyone know about this?"

Puck raises an eyebrow. "Seriously? You've heard some of my songs before. Not my best ones," he grimaces, "but still."

Rachel narrows her gaze at him for a long moment. "I have?"

"I don't write lyrics," Puck clarifies. "I just write the music."

"Oh." Rachel's tilting her head, still walking rapidly beside him. "Oh! _You_ wrote… oh, wow."

"Like I said, not my best stuff, but whatever," Puck shrugs.

Rachel just nods and then smiles brightly. "That's so exciting!" She gives him a little hug and then heads off in the other direction, leaving Puck shaking his head. When he walks into the choir room, it's moderately crowded. Finn, Mike, and Artie are in a corner, discussing something, and Quinn's lying in the floor on the back row. Tina, Kurt, and Brittany are in the middle of the floor, dancing and laughing, and Puck's lips quirk upwards as he watches them. When he crosses the floor, Tina grabs him, throwing him into the dance for a few steps before he escapes. He grins to himself as he notices the conspicuous absence of both Sam and Mercedes.

He sits down and rummages through his bag, pulling out his page of half-notes from physics, and Kurt drops down beside him a moment later. He looks over Puck's notes, then pulls out his own and compares them. He looks at Puck and pulls a face. "I thought so."

Puck laughs. "You're stuck with me if you want to pass the class."

"Same to you." Kurt drops his voice. "Notice who's missing? Besides Santana, that is?"

"Oh, yeah, I noticed." Puck smirks. "No one else has figured it out?"

Kurt shrugs. "I guess not. No one's mentioned it to either of us, or Finn." He looks down at the blank notebook page and grimaces. "Okay, physics. Why did no one warn me it was just math with labels attached?"

"Right," Puck grins. "That's one way to work at it."

They work well together, heads bent towards each other and swapping their respective notes back and forth. After awhile, Mike and Tina wander over.

"Physics?" Tina asks, and Kurt nods, grimacing.

"Who do you have? Mike and I have it in the afternoons with Jones."

"Yeah, we've got Sanders second period," Puck answers.

"Oh, lucky," Mike chimes in. "I've heard she's easier than Ms. Jones."

"I'll take all the luck I can get," Kurt grimaces, flinging his pencil down. "There. I think that's right."

Puck grabs the page and looks at it. "Yeah, that's right. Except. Labels, Kurt. Labels."

Kurt wrinkles his nose and sticks his tongue out at Puck. "Screw physics and its labels."

The other three all laugh, and eventually Kurt joins in, laughing at himself.

"So Mike and I have an idea for the invitational," Tina starts after they've put the physics away. "Since it's not competition, we figured it was a good opportunity to push the envelope a little."

Kurt nods. "Yes. The judges want traditional, at least while we're still here in the Midwest." He grimaces just a little.

"Right. But anyway, we wondered if you wanted to help us choreograph it, Kurt. You know some ballroom dancing, right?"

"Right." Kurt appears to be thinking for a moment. "Yeah, that should be good. When'd you want to work on it?"

"During the week is kind of busy," Mike starts. "I know it's a drag, but maybe Saturday or Sunday morning?"

"No, that's good, actually," Kurt answers, pulling out his phone. Puck just watches him, and personally, he thinks Saturday or Sunday morning is a good time, too, because he's already got places to be without Kurt, and he's kind of selfish. He doesn't want to lose the time he does have with Kurt. "Not this Saturday morning," and he shoots a look at Puck for just a moment, "but Sunday is good, and most Saturdays should be fine."

"Let's do Sunday morning, then," Tina says. "Mike's house around 10?"

"All right," Kurt nods and puts it into his phone before putting it away.

"Sorry, Puck," Tina says with a smile, "we just didn't figure you really knew ballroom dancing."

"You thought correctly," Puck agrees with a nod and a small smile. Sam and Mercedes enter the room just now, and Puck can't resist a small snort.

"What is it?" Tina asks.

Kurt smirks and exchanges a glance with Puck. "Have you not noticed two of our members being awfully friendly? Perhaps disappearing together?"

"Ohh," Tina nods. "I wondered on Monday night." She grins and cuts her eyes towards Sam and Mercedes. "You think they're dating?"

"Yep," Puck says with a nod. "They're not even that subtle, we're just all out of practice noticing after summer."

Mike laughs. "Yeah, probably." The bell rings and they all stand. "Coming to lunch?"

Kurt shakes his head. "I'm out of here. Going to get some hours in this afternoon."

"Same here," Puck adds. "Make money while the sun shines, or whatever."

"See you at practice," Mike holds out his fist, and Puck bumps it with a nod.

"See you."

Everyone streams out of the choir room, and Puck falls into step with Kurt, heading towards the parking lot. "What sounds good?"

Puck shrugs. "I don't know, maybe a burger?"

They head west through town. "DQ? It's not too far."

"That works. It's plenty hot for a Blizzard."

Kurt takes a deep breath. "Puck…"

"Yeah?"

"I talked to Finn last night."

Oh. Right. _That._ "Oh." Puck frowns.

"I assume you didn't go into detail since they were discussing me at one point."

Puck grunts and nods. Yeah, that was a big part of it.

Kurt's voice is almost artificially light. "I know people do, Puck. I could try to find a way to avoid it, but let's face it–my light is set a little too far past 'flaming' for that to really be an option." He smiles wryly. "Not going to force you to talk to me, but if you want to, don't avoid it because of shit like that. Please."

Puck can feel the same burning, ugly sensation in his stomach, just thinking about it. "They just piss me off so bad," he bursts out. "What right do they have? What right do they have to talk about you? Any of us? Yeah, so what, I like cock. I like _your_ cock, to be more specific. Why the fuck do any of them care?"

Kurt's wearing a small smile, a little sad and a little proud at the same time, but his eyes look glassy. "I don't know," he breathes, pulling into the lot and parking. "I don't know why they care. I've been trying to figure it out for years. I finally just decided that people like that… they're stupid. They're petty, and stupid, and nothing I do, or anyone else does, is going to change their insides, even if they manage not to elaborate on their stupidity out loud."

"People suck."

"They really kind of do," Kurt agrees, nodding. "Not specific individuals, per se, but as a whole? Yes."

"I want to drive away from here," Puck announces as they get out of the car. "We need to go to Dayton or Columbus or something. One Saturday. Labor Day. Something."

"Okay," Kurt agrees. "You're coming over this Saturday, though, right?"

"Saturday?"

"Carole said something about a big first weekend-of-school breakfast, she said you and Hannah and your mom usually come."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. I forgot about it. Oh, man, her big breakfast is amazing." Puck grins. "Cinnamon roll french toast, and she makes real bacon and tells my mom it's all turkey bacon. My mom's been trying for years to make her turkey bacon taste as good as 'the bacon Carole cooks,'" Puck adds with a laugh.

"Oh, that's awful," Kurt giggles.

"Eh, Hannah and I don't care if we eat pork. And bacon's kind of awesome."

Puck holds the door open as they walk in, and Kurt steps up to the counter to order his food, then looks at Puck. "What do you want?"

"Oh, cheeseburger with fries and a pop," Puck answers, then smirks at the look on the old guy's face when Kurt pays for both of them.

Puck waits for the food while Kurt disappears into the restroom, and the worker looks him over. "Boyfriend?"

Puck resists the urge to look around him. He noticed when they walked in that there was no one in the dining room, and only the old guy is working the front counter. "Yeah," he replies, a little bit of an edge to his voice.

"He's cute," the worker acknowledges as he slides the tray across the counter to Puck. "You gotta hold on to the cute ones. The good ones, too."

Puck nods without thinking about it, and picks up the tray. "Yeah. Yeah, I will."

He sits down and eats a fry absently as he waits for Kurt to come back. The problem with convincing Kurt is that it's serving to further convince Puck himself. He has a tendency to think of this thing they have as inevitable. His plans for the future all involve a second person. Puck's never thought of himself as an optimist, not at all, but something about being with Kurt makes him feel like one of those novels, utopia or whatever.

Except, of course, he's about two weeks into this and already way over his head. He's got nothing from Kurt other than a commitment to not see anyone else, and Puck's not sure if making out at every opportunity is that convincing. He suppose it helps with the concerns about Kurt's sexiness or lack thereof.

If Puck puts everything he has into this–which he is, already– and Kurt chooses to walk away, Puck's going to be completely broken.

Kurt slides into the booth, sitting next to him, and Puck pulls him into a hard kiss before settling his arm around Kurt's waist.

"You realize we're in public?" Kurt asks, startled.

"Old dude behind the counter already figured us out," Puck shrugs.

"Really?" Kurt takes a bite of his food. "We weren't even touching."

Puck shrugs. "Dunno. Maybe he's just got really awesome gaydar."

"I don't," Kurt acknowledges with a sigh. "I think mine is almost completely broken, even."

"That's okay," Puck smirks. "Mine's so awesome you don't need your own."

"Oh, shush," Kurt rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, and he stuffs a fry into Puck's mouth.

They finish their meal, and Kurt goes back to the counter to order Blizzards while Puck changes back into his clothes for work. "One chocolate extreme blizzard, hold the chocolate chunks."

"Sweet," Puck digs in. "This is almost as good as a brownie batter blizzard."

"That was June's flavor."

"I know." Puck frowns. "Why can't they offer it all year long?"

"Conspiracy," Kurt offers. "They're trying to keep you down." He takes a bite of his own Butterfinger blizzard.

"Douchebags," Puck pronounces as he closes the door. "It's oppression, plain and simple."

"Definitely." Kurt nods.

The ride to Starbucks is far too short, and Puck catches Kurt's hand for a moment and squeezes it before opening the door. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll be here," Kurt nods. "Be good."

"'M always good," Puck smirks and then heads into the store, empty Blizzard cup dangling from his hand.

The two hour shift goes by slowly, due to an almost utter lack of customers. He's going to be cutting it close to get back in time for practice to start; it's not far, but he thinks it'll probably still take 20 minutes or so, so he goes ahead and changes again. Somehow he's unsurprised when he walks out and sees Finn waiting.

"Heard you might need a ride," Finn offers. "Little birdie told me."

"You mean your brother texted you," Puck throws his stuff in the back and climbs in.

"Birdie, brother. Told, texted." Finn shrugs. "Not that much difference."

"Yeah, I want to be around when you tell Kurt he's a little birdie."

"Yeah, okay, maybe I won't do that."

"That would be my advice."

Finn doesn't comment on the fact that Puck's already changed, and Puck just passes through the locker room on his way to the field. They're running most drills without pads this week, and probably will the next week, too, until the weather cools a little. Beiste is tough on them, but she's a stickler for preventing heat stroke and shit like that.

"Puckerman! Early today."

"Hey, Coach. Yeah, I changed at work."

"Where's work?"

"Starbucks."

"I'll drop by sometime."

"Mostly I work mornings before school. Only worked today since dual enrollment hasn't started up."

Beiste nods. "You want to get started warming up? Twelve laps today." Puck nods and heads off around the field.

When practice is over, he doesn't bother to shower and change, just collects his bags and heads home. The best part about the apartment is the location; it's just over five minutes, straight down the street, to get to and from school.

Hannah gives him a huge hug as he steps in the door. "Noah! I missed you! Guess what? I'm in the same class as Rebecca!"

"Yeah?" Puck moves to his room, Hannah following him, as he puts things away. "That's cool. Who else?"

"Stevie," Hannah makes a little face. "So he's still chasing us around the playground." Puck smirks a little. Maybe he needs to have a talk with Sam. "But my teacher told him it wasn't nice. Her name is Ms. Robins."

"I think I had her," Puck muses. "She was pretty awesome, even if she did make me stop stealing other kids' balls at recess."

Puck empties his pockets and plugs in his phone to charge. "What's for dinner?"

"Mom said spaghetti and meatballs."

"Cool. Now scram, squirt, I have to shower."

"You do stink," Hannah wrinkles her nose.

"Thanks, you too," Puck rolls his eyes, pushing her gently out the door.

 

After dinner, Puck stares blankly at the computer screen, waiting for inspiration to strike. _How has music influenced your personal growth?_ How about, _Music has_ been _my personal growth._ From the moment that Puck stepped out onto the stage as part of Schue's ill-fated Acafellas group, almost everything good in Puck's life has come from music. He regrets a lot of things in his short life, but he's never regretted walking through the door to the choir room, even in the face of slushies and that disastrous night in the port-o-let junior year.

Puck doesn't know how to explain that in a 1000-word essay. He's not sure that he knows how to explain it at all.

It's almost a relief, then, when his phone rings, and he grins, recognizing the ring tone. "Hey, Kurt."

"Hi," Kurt answers, and Puck can hear the smile in Kurt's voice. "How was practice?"

"Hot and sweaty. Thanks for sending Finn, by the way."

"I admit to nothing," Kurt responds immediately. "What're you doing?"

"Staring at a blank computer screen," Puck admits. "I'm not really sure how to explain how music relates to my personal growth. It kinda has just been my personal growth, y'know?"

"Yeah," and Puck can practically hear Kurt wrinkling his nose. "College application essays are designed to test our ability to bullshit, I've decided. Improvisational training, if you will."

"So I should give up and go watch some re-runs of Whose Line Is It Anyway?"

"Mmm, probably not. Though no doubt it would be more entertaining. We should hit up Chicago's clubs once before we blow this town."

"That'd be fun. Maybe over winter break or something, we could stay a couple of nights."

"Ohh, nice, yeah. I could go shopping while we're there," Kurt perks up. "And maybe ice skating at Millennium Park."

Puck chuckles, a big grin on his face, because planning a little vacation with Kurt? Sounds pretty awesome. "Sounds like fun."

"It does," Kurt agrees. "Oh, hang on." Puck can hear muttering on the other end of the phone, and then Kurt's voice is back. "Okay, I'm supposed to tell you that we're having a 'get-together' here Friday night. I think that means that everyone from glee club is going to show up and inevitably there will be Rock Band or Guitar Hero or karaoke or something, along with a lot of food."

"Is this Finn's plan, or Rachel's?"

"I'm going to go with a combination of the two. The food and the plan is definitely Finn. The term get-together and the games are definitely a Rachel contribution."

"I'm guessing there's no way we can get out of it?"

"Probably not," Kurt agrees regretfully. "Mainly since it's my house. You have Saturday free after breakfast here, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Want to do something?"

"Lots of somethings," Kurt's voice teases. "Surely we can agree on one or two."

Puck lets out a low groan. "You are _such_ a tease."

"Am not. I follow through."

"Not helping."

"Oh, was I supposed to be?"

Puck chuckles, and a moment later he hears Kurt dissolve into laughter.

"I see how it is," Puck manages after a few moments. "No need to explain."

"Oh, good," Kurt says, a spark of mirth still in his voice. "That might get awkward with my dad listening."

"What!"

"Just kidding," Kurt replies sweetly.

"Don't scare me like that."

"What? Dad likes you. He knows you've been here with me when no one else has been home."

Puck feels liked he's just been kicked in the solar plexus. "Wh–what?"

"Dad's not stupid. He just prefers not to pretend that I'm not eighteen, at least insofar as what he will explicitly acknowledge. Really, he'd be happy if I were still ten. Or even twelve."

"But… seriously, Kurt?"

"Seriously, Puck. It's fine. I promise."

"Oo-kay." Puck feels way out of his depth. "If you say so."

"I do say so." Kurt sighs. "I should go, if I want any hot water. Carole gets in the shower at 9 on the dot every night, and she's usually in there for 30 minutes."

"Damn, is it already 8:45? Fuck, I must've been staring at this blank screen longer than I thought."

"Yeah, it is. I'll see you in the morning, kay?"

"Yeah, see you then. Be good."

"You know I'm always good."

Puck laughs as he ends the call.


	9. Oil Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teasing, cars, and what have you done today to make you feel proud?

The next morning, as they step out of Kurt's Navigator, Puck sees Sam just ahead. He smirks wickedly at Kurt. "Hey, watch this." Raising his voice, he calls after Sam. "Hey, Sam, wait up!"

Sam stops and watches the two of them approach. "Hey guys. What's up?"

"Well, it's like this," Puck says with a grin, slapping an arm around Sam's shoulders. He can see Kurt smirking on his other side. "When you decided you wanted to take Mercedes out on a date, I doubt you chased her and a friend around the football field a few times."

"When I–wait, what?" Sam's eyes are wide.

"Oh, Sammy," Kurt interjects. "Your secret love affair is tragically obvious, at least to some of us."

"I–uh, wow. Okay." He looks over at Puck, still confused. "What's that got to do with the football field?"

"I'm just wondering what you've been telling your little brother, see. Because all summer long, it's 'Stevie chased Rebecca and I around the slide,' and 'Stevie chased me up the monkey bars,' and I get home yesterday, and what does Hannah have to say?" Puck pauses to grin widely at Sam as they go up the stairs. "'Noah, Stevie's in my class this year, and he's chasing Rebecca and I around the playground.' So, y'know, I'm just wondering if maybe he watched you with Mercedes and thought he'd learned something."

Sam is bright red, and Kurt's stifling laughter as they stop at Sam's locker. "I, uh. No. I did not chase Mercedes around any fields or playgrounds."

"Good to know," Kurt nods. "I would have highly disapproved."

"And, uh, yeah." Now Sam's grinning too. "All summer long it was 'Hannah this' and 'Hannah that,' but he failed to include the chasing portion of the summer."

"Ahh, young love," Kurt sighs dramatically, as Mercedes walks up.

"Who's in love?"

"Hannah and Stevie," Kurt says with a smirk, looking at Puck and Sam with utter mischief in his eyes. Puck feels himself blanche, and Sam looks sort of horrified.

"No. Nonono. She's way too young. No offense, Sam," Puck spits out hurriedly.

"None taken," Sam looks stricken. "They are definitely too young. Kurt, how would you feel if we talked about your younger sibling that way?"

"Sam, honey, my little brother is dating Rachel Berry. Doesn't that say everything?" Kurt asks dryly.

Puck snorts and Sam looks a little incredulous. "You're older than Finn?"

"By almost six months," Kurt smirks. "My birthday was in June, his is in November." He turns to Mercedes. "Also, Mercedes, you and I are going to have a talk. For instance, how long has this been going on?" He tucks his arm into hers, and she throws a panicked look back over her shoulder, but Sam just shrugs. Kurt waves over his shoulder, and Puck falls into step with Sam, headed for history.

"Seriously, Sammy-boy, how long? You and Mercedes, I mean."

"Uh." Sam flushes. "Since prom, really."

"Prom? Wow, dude. And you two just decided not to say anything because…"

"I don't know. Relationships get weird in glee club, once everyone knows."

"True dat." They enter the classroom and look at Finn, then look at each other and smirked a little.

"What?" Finn looks down. "Is my fly open or something?"

"No, dude," Puck assures him, then turns to Sam. "Yeah, maybe we do have a better deal."

"Yeah, I like you all right."

"What are you two talking about?"

"Stevie has a crush on Hannah, and vice versa," Sam explains, "but then Kurt pointed out that it could be worse."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah, _his_ little brother is dating Rachel Berry." Puck grins broadly.

"But Finn's dating Rachel," Brittany objects.

"Finn's younger than Kurt," Sam explains, smiling. "By nearly six months."

"It's closer to five months," Finn protests, which just makes Puck smirk.

"Sure. You're still Kurt's _little_ brother."

Finn just groans and puts his head down on his desk. "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"

"Nope," Puck says cheerfully.

 

"Sam's very amused that Finn's younger than you," Puck says in lieu of a greeting as he sits down in physics. "I think he's going to tell everyone he meets today."

"Finn will love that."

"I thought so, too."

"Lab today, by the way. We get to play with Hot Wheels tracks." Kurt gestures towards the front of the room.

"Oh, fun. See, this is much better than cutting up a frog."

"This is true. Even if it is stupid math."

Puck just laughs. They spend the rest of the period setting up a track and then racing different sized cars down it. Kurt has a knack for predicting the results correctly, but can't figure out why, other than "it's just common sense!"

Puck finally chalks it to the fact that it's cars, and Kurt does know cars, after all, so maybe it somehow applies to smaller scale cars as well. He mentions this theory to Kurt, who scoffs.

"I don't know, do you think I could fix its engine?" Kurt holds a tiny car up at eye level. "Hmm, nope, can't even get the hood up."

"Maybe it just needs an oil change."

"Maybe _you_ need an oil change."

Puck leans close to whisper. "You can change my oil any time you like."

Kurt flushes bright red but laughs hysterically, packing up his stuff. "Awful!"

"Oh, awful, hmm?" Puck's smirking, and Kurt's eyes are bright. "I didn't hear…"

"Probably not the best place," Kurt breaks in, breathing out, and Puck shakes his head a little.

"Fuck. This is hard." He picks up his bag and swings it onto his back. "You leaving after third or sticking around for awhile?"

"I think I'll leave after third today, since I'll be back at three."

"Oh, right. Shit. I didn't bring my guitar."

Kurt just holds out his hand.

"Seriously?"

"It's not a big deal. Unless you don't want me to."

"No, no, that's awesome." Puck drops his keys into Kurt's palm. "Thanks."

"See you this afternoon."

"Yeah." _I hate for him to go, but I love to watch him leave._

Rachel's waiting for him at the end of English class again. "So tell me more about what you write," she begins without preamble, and Puck grimaces.

"A lot of different stuff," he offers evasively. It's never been something he's spoken that openly about, and Rachel can't keep a secret to save her life.

"It makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it," Rachel continues onward. "What instrumentation do you write for? Have you used–"

"Rachel," Puck interrupts her gently as they approach the choir room. "It's not something that I share that much, right now, okay?" He smiles a little, hoping it will lessen the sting of his words. "Keep it between us, please?"

"Oh. Oh, of course. I'm sorry, of course I will." She smiles tremulously, then brightens a little. "I'll see you this afternoon; I'm very much looking forward to what you boys have to offer!" Then she's gone, down the hallway, and Puck wonders a little bit, where she goes during fourth period.

No one else is in the room, yet, and Puck takes advantage of the quiet to play a few chords before sitting in a chair and digging out his music theory syllabus. He doesn't have to listen to anyone lecture in class, because there's no one _to_ lecture, but it means a lot of reading, which he's not really looking forward to. He should ask Ms. Pillsbury if there's a good source of videos online or something. Or just look it up himself. He's probably better with google than she is.

A few others trickle in, and almost everyone drops into a chair, pulling out schoolwork, which Puck thinks is kind of interesting. He's heard about senioritis, but a lot of them are going to have auditions and shit all through the spring, so he wonders if the glee club as a whole will have it the same way as the rest of their class.

Artie rolls up beside Puck. "You brought your guitar?"

"Forgot it, actually," Puck admits sheepishly. "Kurt's gonna grab it on his way back this afternoon."

"You've been spending a lot of time with Kurt."

Puck's sort of been waiting for this, so his response is ready. He shrugs. "Yeah. Spent most of the summer with Finn and him."

"Aren't you…" Artie looks a little sheepish, to his credit, as he continues. "… afraid that he might think you're more than friends?"

Puck raises his eyebrows incredulously. "Seriously? Two years in this club, and you're still…?" He doesn't finish the sentence, because Artie's imagination will probably come up with something better than Puck's mouth would, anyway.

Artie drops his eyes. "No, no, you're right. I'm just being stupid." He sighs. "Kurt deserves to have close friends, too."

"Take your own advice, man," Puck suggests. Because, yeah, okay, Puck did end up sort of head-over-heels for Kurt, but they were friends before that, and Kurt's an awesome friend to have. He raises an eyebrow. "Anything else?"

"No." Artie's eyes are still downcast. "I–"

"Just don't let Kurt or Finn either one hear you talking shit like that," Puck interrupts him. "Finn's oddly protective of his big brother." He smirks. Oh, yeah, he found a way to drop that into another conversation.

" _Big_ brother?"

"Finn's birthday is November. Kurt's was in June."

Artie laughs. "Hard to think of Finn being anyone's _little_ anything."

"Exactly."

Puck starts to turn back to his book when Artie interrupts him again. "What class is that for?"

"Music theory."

"I didn't know we had a music theory class."

"We don't." Puck shrugged. "It's an independent study thing, Ms. Pillsbury set it up."

"Cool. I'll let you get back to it."

Another fifteen minutes passes before Finn drops heavily into the chair next to Puck's. "You just couldn't let the 'little brother' thing go, could you?"

Puck smirks without even looking up. "Nope."

"You should be nice to me."

"Why?" Puck grins.

"Um. I'm Kurt's brother. He likes me," Finn offers.

"Yeah, your brother's the one who mentioned it first." Puck finally looks up. "So… no."

"Damn."

"Sucks, dude."

"Let's go eat lunch."

Puck looks around, and the rest of the room is empty. "The bell rang?"

"Right before I sat down here," Finn laughs. "C'mon."

 

Puck stops by Ms. Pillsbury's office right after lunch, instead of waiting until near the end of the day, in case he loses track of time again. "Hey, Ms. Pillsbury, can we talk now?"

"Oh, sure, Noah, come in."

Puck shuffles in and sits down in one of the chairs, waiting expectantly.

"I really liked what you wrote," Ms. Pillsbury says with a smile. "I made a few suggestions and some copyediting marks, but, to be honest, I think you could send this application off in a week or two."

"Really?"

"Really." She smiles. "I know how important leaving is for you, and I think your chances at this point in the game are as close to absolute as they can get."

"Yeah?" Puck grins. "Awesome." He gathers the marked copies and stands. "Thanks, Ms. P!"

"Thank you, Noah."

Puck does lose track of time once he entered the choir room, and he's grateful, in a way, that he's doing the class as an independent study. For every concept he encounters, he can pluck it out on the guitar sitting in the room, or on the piano, experimenting with it, which has always been how he's learned music.

He's not sure how late it is when the door creaks and opens slightly. He looks up and grins as Kurt slips in the room. "Hey. You're early."

"I thought you might like your own guitar." Kurt sets it down carefully. "Or a break."

Puck stands and makes sure the door is shut. "I would _love_ a break."

"There's about 30 minutes before the bell rings."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Kurt confirms, and he steps up to Puck, kissing him hard on the mouth.

Puck's arms wrap around Kurt, holding him in place, and he returns the kiss. "Now that's a nice break," he murmurs against Kurt's lips.

"Hmm," Kurt replies, one hand on the back of Puck's neck, playing with the short hair there. He runs his other hand down Puck's side, resting it on his hip. "I could make it nicer."

"Is that a theoretical suggestion or a promise?"

"Which would you prefer?"

"The latter."

"I'll have to oblige you, then."

Puck grins before kissing Kurt deeply, and Kurt uses the hand on Puck's hip to pull Puck closer. They stand close, kissing deeply, for a few moments, before Kurt twists them slightly, backing Puck up until his back is against the bulletin board. Then Kurt pulls back a little, running his hands down Puck's chest, and smiles. It looks innocent, but Puck can see the deviousness concealed beneath it. He groans a little and thrusts into Kurt's hip.

"Nuh-uh," Kurt scolds, hand pushing one side of Puck's hips back against the wall. "Still."

Puck swallows and nods.

"Good boy," Kurt purrs, and then he leans in for another deep, open-mouthed kiss. Puck loses himself in the kiss, and when Kurt pulls back, Puck's a little surprised to find that his jeans are undone, pushed down just a little on his hip, his boxer briefs pushed down along with them.

"Fuck, Kurt. You're some kind of…" Puck pauses and draws in a breath as Kurt nibbles on his earlobe. "… sex ninja," he finishes.

Kurt brushes his hand over Puck's partially exposed erection. "Oh?"

"Not complaining."

"Good." Kurt's kissing him again, kissing him deep and hard, and it takes all of Puck's self-control not to roll his hip forward, thrust them, anything. Then suddenly Kurt's pulling away, and Puck can't feel him. Puck starts to open his eyes when Kurt's hand slides inside Puck's underwear, freeing his erection completely. He groans, leaning his head back against the bulletin board.

He brings his head up abruptly a minute later when he feels the swipe of Kurt's tongue across the tip of his cock. "Holy shit," he gasps, looking down. Kurt's perched on his knees; there's no other way to describe it. His mouth is stretched around the tip of Puck's cock, and his eyes are open, looking up through his eyelashes at Puck.

Seeing Kurt naked and stretched in front of him was beautiful; watching Kurt on his knees, mouth placed perfectly on Puck's cock is just plain _hot_ and _sexy_ , and his knees start to buckle before he catches himself, bracing against the wall.

Kurt pulls away briefly and then licks up the underside of Puck's cock, suckling at the tip for a moment before repeating the motion on the right, and then left, sides. Puck brings his wrist up to his mouth, muffling the sounds falling from his lips.

He's pretty sure this isn't what Ms. Pillsbury had in mind when she set up his independent study.

Then Kurt's taking him into his mouth, not just the tip, sinking ever lower, one hand bracing on Puck's still-clothed thigh. Kurt wraps his other hand around the bottom of Puck's erection, squeezing gently. Kurt moves his tongue, wrapping it around the shaft one direction, then the other, and then slowly starts to move.

He slides up and down, his hand moving in tandem, establishing a slow, steady rhythm, and Puck watches Kurt's eyes flutter closed, his face intense.

"Mmmmffff," escapes from around Puck's wrist, and he's torn between closing his eyes, losing himself in the sensation, and continuing to watch Kurt's careful attention.

 _There will never be another_ first _time to watch this_ is the thought that decides him, his breath coming in ragged gasps as Kurt's speed increases. Kurt's cheeks are rosy pink and concave, eyelashes a dark contrast with them. Puck forces himself not to move his hips, letting Kurt maintain complete control of how fast they are going. Kurt's speeding up, though, his hand a little tighter, his mouth moving faster and a little farther each time.

Puck can feel his climax approaching, and he lets the fingers on his free hand scrabble at the wall, searching for something to hold on to. A moment later, Kurt's hand temporarily leaves his cock, guiding Puck's hand to the back of Kurt's head, then returning to its previous place. Puck weaves his fingers through Kurt's thick hair, his pinky dipping beneath the collar of Kurt's shirt.

Puck feels Kurt's mouth open wider, his tongue following the vein on the underside of Puck's erection, and his hand involuntarily tightens in Kurt's hair. A moment later, Kurt increases the suction, and Puck flings his wrist out of his mouth, letting a loud moan escape as he begins to come. He feels his cock slide further into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt sucking every drop from him as he comes.

When he's finished, Kurt pulls away, and Puck slides down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. A moment later, Kurt's under his arm, leaning over him, and Puck closes the distance between them, drawing Kurt into a languid kiss. "Fuck," he whispers as Kurt slowly pulls away. Kurt tilts his head, almost shyly, and Puck slowly grins. "C'mere," he opens his arms a little, pulling Kurt sideways against his side. Kurt leans back, his head on Puck's chest, and Puck bends his neck, pressing his lips first to Kurt's forehead, then his cheek, and finally his mouth. Kurt's lips slowly part underneath his, and Puck moves his tongue through Kurt's mouth, tasting himself on Kurt's tongue.

Puck raises his head and can't resist a quick check of the clock. Fifteen minutes. He nods once, decisively, to himself, then turns back to Kurt. "My turn," he whispers, and Kurt scrambles to his feet as Puck tucks himself back away. Puck wraps an arm around Kurt's waist and kisses his temple, then steers him towards the piano bench. He makes quick work of pulling down Kurt's jeans and then his underwear, Kurt's erection springing free.

If Puck's totally honest, he's pretty sure Kurt's bigger than he is, which is about five percent embarrassing and ninety-five percent awesome. He takes just a moment to look at Kurt, fully clothed except for the impressive erection nestled amongst dark curls.

Kurt slides onto the piano bench, barely sitting on it, and Puck slides onto the floor in front of him. He just might've done some googling since the other evening, and while he's not going to be deep-throating anytime soon, he's pretty sure he can take Kurt a little deeper than he did two days before. He licks up and down Kurt's shaft, coating it with spit, and then slowly takes the tip into his mouth, then continues, taking more of Kurt's erection into his mouth. Kurt groans above him, and Puck lifts a hand to place his finger gently on Kurt's lips.

Kurt presses a kiss to the tip of the finger, and nods, and Puck begins moving up and down Kurt's erection, trying to take a little more into his mouth each time. He's pretty sure he's succeeding, and he opens his eyes to watch Kurt's body approach and recede with each movement. He moves his hand to slide up the front of Kurt's shirt, resting his splayed-out hand on the lower portion of Kurt's chest, feeling the muscles contract and pulse under it.

Knowing that they have to hurry, that anyone could walk in soon, Puck increases his speed and his suction, bringing his other hand up to circle the base of Kurt's cock, pumping it slowly. After just a few moments, he can feel Kurt's muscles tense under his hand, and he tries again to take Kurt even deeper. He starts to gag but keeps going, faster, and Kurt arches his back against the piano as he fills Puck's mouth. Puck carefully cleans Kurt, then stands, pulling Kurt to his feet. They glance at the clock together–four minutes until the bell. Kurt fixes his underwear and jeans, and Puck hurriedly puts his work away before taking a chance and kissing Kurt once more. They separate just before the bell rings, Kurt taking a seat in the front row and Puck pulling out his guitar, adjusting the strings.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kurt messing with his hair, and Puck can't help running his thumb along the corners of his mouth. Brittany and Santana walk in first, dropping into seats near Kurt's. "You heard the gossip?"

"Which?" Kurt asks, feigning boredom.

"Sam and Mercedes."

"Oh, that," Kurt nods. "Yes. They've been seeing each other all summer under our noses." He sniffs a little, and Puck stifles a grin.

"Is it true that they were seeing each other when we were in New York?" Santana breaks in. "'Cause I'm pretty sure I would've noticed that."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't," Puck says with a snort. "Sam said it started at prom."

"What started?" Quinn breezes in, Rachel and Finn walking behind her.

"Sam and Mercedes," Kurt offers.

"Ohhh," Rachel nods. "I heard a rumor. It's true?"

"I think so," Tina offers, and Artie and Mike behind her nod.

"Or you could just ask," Kurt responds again, inclining his head towards the door where Mercedes and Sam are standing, looking amused.

"You guys were kind of obvious," Finn offers, smiling, and almost everyone else looks at him, confused.

"Obvious? Really?" Quinn asks, and Finn shrugs. Puck's amused, because really, Finn spotting things before other people seems a little off, somehow.

"I dunno. It seemed that way to me," he trails off, a little more uncertainly, but further interrogation of Finn, Sam, or Mercedes is cut off when Schue enters the room with a big grin.

"Hey, guys! Everyone having a good week back?"

Most everyone says some variation of yes, but Brittany pipes up with, "Did you know that Finn's the little brother?" which makes Finn groan and the few people who hadn't heard the news laugh. Puck grins broadly.

"Are the boys ready to perform?" Schue breaks in, and the six of them exchange glances and nod, moving to the front of the room. Sam and Puck both have their guitars, and Artie's pulled out an electric bass, so the band doesn't have to come in.

"We took a somewhat metaphorical approach," Sam states, "so it's not explicitly about expectations." With a nod, Sam launches into the music, singing the first round of the chorus as a solo. At the end of it, Artie and Puck join in with their instruments, and Kurt and Finn take the first verse. Artie, Mike, and Puck share the second verse, and all six of them sing the chorus.

The next verse and the next run-through of the chorus are divided almost line by line, but they join together again to sing the final chorus.

 _It's time to move, time to get going  
What lies ahead I have no way of knowing,  
But under my feet, baby, grass is growing,  
It's time to move on, time to get going_

Puck holds the last note on the guitar as their voices each slowly fade away, and they close the song with a final chord.

The girls clap, and Puck can't help but smirk at the surprised expressions on most of their faces. Yeah, the girls all tend to think they're more committed to the club, but Puck remembers who's threatened to walk out, and who's actually even quit. Tina and Mercedes are the only two of the girls that haven't.

"Wow, guys," Schue says, clapping. "That was a great way to interpret the assignment. You have always been good, but the six of you really upped the ante with that. Great harmonizing, great instrumentation, and your stage presence was nice and relaxed. Go ahead and sit down."

Puck smirks. Yeah, ol' Schue'd have a relaxed stage presence, too, if he'd been doing what Puck and Kurt were doing just fifteen minutes earlier. Maybe Puck can convince Kurt that they need to at least make out before every performance. Puck's pretty sure it would enhance his own performance, and while Kurt's performances are technically flawless, a little more open emotion would be great. Puck makes a mental note and tunes back in to whatever Schue's saying.

"… so be thinking about possible numbers for Invitationals, we'll pick those in the week or two after Labor Day." Schue nods to himself. "We don't have much to practice, yet, and the girls are performing tomorrow, right?" He smiles, and Rachel nods eagerly, the rest of the girls looking less enthused, at least to Puck's eyes. "Does anyone else have anything they want to say or perform?"

Finn shuffles his feet and then speaks. "I, uh, have a song. I just… it reminded me of someone, so I thought, yeah. I'd get it out."

Puck scans the room, a little bored, as Finn hands the sheet music to Brad, and Rachel perks up, looking certain that Finn's about to sing to her. When Puck hears the first quiet chords, though, he's almost certain that it's not.

When Finn begins singing, he's completely certain. It's slow and sad, and the first verse doesn't make a lot of sense, but the chorus hits Puck in the chest. He swallows and looks around the room. Everyone else looks mildly interested, but Kurt looks almost stricken, especially when Finn sings, "But if you never try you'll never know just what you're worth." Puck half-smiles, half-grimaces as there's an extended bridge. Yeah, Finn takes care of his big brother.

Finn's voice almost breaks over _I promise you I will learn from my mistakes_ , and it takes every once of self-control for Puck not to show his own distress during the final chorus.

Because as much as the song was Finn singing to Kurt, Puck knows it's a little bit for him, too. For the times they're going to feel broken and lost. As Finn brings the song to its conclusion, Puck looks at Kurt, and there's a single tear running down one cheek.

Finn replaces the microphone as Brad plays the last lines of music and then moves to sit back down. He stops in front of Kurt, though, and Kurt grabs him in a fierce embrace. Puck lets a small smile escape. He knows, probably better than anyone else in the room, the journey that Finn and Kurt have taken.

You can't choose your family, but Finn and Kurt chose to truly be brothers, and at that moment, Puck couldn't be prouder or happier for either of them.

 

Puck takes his time putting away his guitar and gathering his stuff together to leave the choir room after Schue dismisses them. Everyone's busy chattering together, which makes attempting to be last harder than he anticipates. Finally, though, everyone trickles out of the room, and Puck steps through the door to see Kurt leaning on the opposite wall, waiting.

Kurt glances up and down the hall and then moves to Puck's side, silent as they walk out the door. "Relaxed stage presence," he finally says with a smirk, and Puck laughs.

"Yeah, so you think Schue would endorse that method of relaxation before competitions?"

"Probably not," Kurt sighs regretfully. "It seems that it might be a little tricky to accomplish without his explicit endorsement, however."

"Probably don't really need it before Invitationals or Sectionals," Puck offers with a grin. "But maybe Regionals, and definitely Nationals."

"True, true." Kurt holds the door as they walk into the sunshine. "You need to get home?"

Puck shrugs and checks the time on his phone. "Eh. I've got a little while. Maybe I can persuade you not to drop me off and run?"

"Oh, you might be able to do that," Kurt agrees. "What did you have in mind?"

"Anything." Puck shrugs, tilting his face up into the hot breeze. "I just feel… restless." Throughout the meeting, especially after they performed, the relaxed feeling had slowly drained, and now Puck feels like he's got something crawling slowly under his skin.

He thinks he knows what the problem is, but he tries not to analyze it too closely.

"Mmm," Kurt agrees with a nod, unlocking the SUV, and they climb in. The parking lot is mostly deserted, and as soon as the doors close, Kurt's head is leaning against Puck's shoulder, his right hand settling comfortably on Puck's leg.

Okay, so yeah, that is the problem, but at least he's not the only one.

"Mental note," he finally says into the quiet car. "Build in a few extra minutes."

Kurt's head nods against his shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few more moments. "We'd probably be more comfortable on actual furniture," Puck points out, somewhat reluctantly, and Kurt straightens.

"That's true." Kurt turns the key and flips on the air conditioning. "Your place?"

Puck nods. "Yeah, that's good."

They end up sitting in the dark in Puck's living room, Puck sprawled across the couch, Kurt sprawled across Puck. The restlessness is finally subsiding, and Puck throws one arm around Kurt's waist. "You working tomorrow?" Puck mumbles.

"Afternoon? No." Kurt shakes his head. "You?"

"Nope. Let's go see a matinee or something before I have practice, since there's Rachel and Finn's shindig in the evening."

"Conan? Or that new horror flick with Katie Holmes?"

"I don't know, am I going to be watching the movie or you?"

"Yes?"

Puck chuckles. "Horror it is."

Kurt's breathing gets more even and slow, and Puck brings up his other hand to run slowly through Kurt's hair. "You awake?" he whispers softly.

Kurt nods and makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a purr. "I am," he adds, though his voice is heavy and tired. "I don't want to leave," he admits, volume lower.

Puck picks up Kurt's hand and kisses the palm. "I don't want you to leave, either."

"We're going to make it," Kurt says after a long moment. "We're going to get through this year, and have fun with our friends, and win Nationals. We're going to get into college and leave this place behind."

Puck tightens the arm around Kurt's waist as Kurt speaks. "We will," he replies. "Whatever it takes. Within reason," he amends.

Kurt giggles a little at his addition. "Damn."

Puck smiles at the sound. "I know," he says mournfully. "What am I thinking, restricting us like that?"

They fall silent again, remaining still on the couch until just before Puck's mom and sister are due home. Kurt slowly peels himself away from Puck, stretching as he stands next to the couch. Puck starts to get up, but Kurt puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head slightly. "I'll let myself out." He bends down and presses a soft kiss first on Puck's forehead, then on Puck's lips.

Puck stays in place until after Hannah comes in, jumping on top of him. After dinner, he pulls out the application essays that Ms. Pillsbury had looked over, making a few changes and considering her suggestions.

There wasn't much he could do about grades in the past, but he still managed a decent looking GPA. His SAT scores had been surprisingly high, especially for math, and he likes the essays he's written. He purses his lips and leans back in his chair, and then picks up the phone.

"Hello?"

"So I'm thinking about hitting 'submit' and it's kind of freaking me out."

"What? Oh. Hunter?"

"Yeah. Ms. P looked at my essays and said they were good. I filled in all the other information. She said she'd send in the counselor rec as soon as I told her I submitted my part."

"Well." Puck can hear Kurt moving around a little. "Go for it."

"This is it. I mean… it's not my first choice, but."

"You're getting out of this town, Puck. Hit submit."

Puck bites his lip, left hand gripping the phone tightly, and maneuvers the mouse to hover over the 'submit' button.

"Do it, Noah Puckerman." Kurt's voice is firm but amused, and when Puck lets a smile creep onto his face, he depresses the mouse button. He stares at the screen, watching the rainbow ball spin for seconds that feel like hours.

"Done."

He can _hear_ the smile in Kurt's voice. "See?" he asks, delight in his tone. "Now you just have to tell Ms. P tomorrow, and you'll get that letter in a month or so."

"Yeah. Yeah," Puck nods, his grip on the phone loosening a little, and he smiles. "Damn. Holy shit."

"Badass," Kurt teases.

"Hell, yeah."

They talk for a few minutes before, before they both realize that they need to do a little schoolwork. Puck's about to hang up when Kurt interrupts him.

"Puck?" Kurt's voice drops a little and softens. "I'm really proud of you."

"Yeah?" Puck's pretty sure he sounds disbelieving.

"Yeah. Really."

Puck swallows. "Be good, Kurt."

"Puck, I'm always good," Kurt responds, voice a little brighter, and then he ends the call.

Puck stares at the phone for a minute. It's been a long time since he really made someone proud. He grins and tosses the phone onto his bed. He's getting out of Lima.


	10. Payback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday; payback time.

Puck thinks it's funny how quickly things become routine. School started just four days ago, and he already is completely settled in the morning routine. The only thing different about his morning is Puck beats Finn and Sam both to history class. He claims his seat and rests his head on his arms for a moment before Sam enters, poking him in the shoulder.

"Hey, dude," he says softly as Puck straightens. Sam looks around, almost a little shifty. "That song Finn sang yesterday… is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's cool," drops almost automatically from Puck's lips. 'Cause, well, no, everything's _not_ cool, but there's really no way to explain that to Sam, even if Puck were inclined to do so. Which he's not. "Family stuff." He shrugs. "You know how that is."

"Ah, yeah," Sam nods, understandingly. "Gotcha."

Sam sits down just as Finn enters the room. Finn nods at Sam, says hello to Brittany, and claps Puck on the shoulder as he drops into the seat next to him. Puck nods once and returns the gesture. Yep, message heard and received. Puck's thankful, not for the first time, for the luck that placed him and Finn next to each other in the first grade seating chart. He's also incredibly grateful for the fact that Finn's a forgiving sort.

It's just sheer awesomeness that Finn's mom ended up married to Kurt's dad, because what were the odds, really?

Puck tries really hard to stay awake in history, but it's not the easiest thing to do. He needs to remember to ask Kurt if he couldn't just read the Wikipedia page on the fifteenth century instead, because it has a timeline just like the one the teacher wants them to draw in their notes. Henry VIII had a bunch of wives seems to be the point of today's lecture. That, and something about the Pope not liking it.

Duh. The Pope couldn't have _any_ wives. Or husbands, for that matter. Of course he was pissed that Henry was having his way all the time.

Puck can't help smiling a little at the end of history every day. Not only is history over, but that means physics is next, and he gets to see Kurt in physics. Even if they do have to try to pay attention. It's probably one of the last, if not the last, science courses they'll have to take. He makes himself take the long route, though, to stop by Ms. Pillsbury's office. He knocks once on the door frame and she smiles. "Did you submit it already?"

"Yeah," Puck nods, biting back his grin. "Can you…"

"I'll do it in just a few minutes," she smiles. "Good job, Puck."

"Uh, thanks."

Puck continues to physics, a little more bounce in his step. Kurt's already there, and Puck realizes that Kurt's got on t-shirt and something Kurt called a "deconstructed blazer" when he picked up Puck that morning, which means that the big mark Puck left must've faded.

 _Just in time for the movie theatre_ flits through his brain, but he figures he should probably lay off for a week or two. Even if it is pretty fun, along with the added satisfaction of seeing them adorn Kurt's skin for a few days.

"No collar necessary?" he asks as she sits down.

"No," Kurt says with a roll of his eyes. "And perhaps it could stay that way for a few days at least?"

"You're no fun," Puck pouts.

"Oh, really?" Kurt turns to him, a challenge in his voice, eyes dancing.

Puck grins after a moment. "On second thought."

"That's what I thought." Kurt smirks, clearly satisfied, before turning back to the front of the room, the model of an attentive student. Puck shakes his head, still grinning.

Puck attempts to pay attention in English, though he's not really sure why. He chalks it up to feeling guilty about spending most of the day on Wednesday writing music instead, or maybe it's because he knows he doesn't have to go to another class until Monday morning after this one ends. Either way, Rachel beams approvingly at him and hurries to catch up as he heads out the door.

"The rendition all of you did of Tom Petty yesterday was interesting choice. I admit to being surprised that the six of you went for a more metaphorical interpretation. Clearly the group of you also spent time in rehearsal together."

"Uh, a bit, yeah." Puck scratches the back of his neck. "Not a lot, though."

"You are attending tonight, aren't you?" Rachel abruptly switched subjects as they rounded a corner. "I believe Finn said that he invited you."

"Yeah, I'll be there," Puck nods.

"And please don't bring alcohol," Rachel adds.

Puck smirks. He hadn't even thought about bringing alcohol or not, but making her worry about it is always kind of fun. "I won't bring anything too hard," he says instead, stepping ahead of her as they reach the choir room.

The girls are gathering in a huddle next to the band, discussing something somewhat frantically, while most of the guys sit at some distance, most of them looking perplexed. Puck slides into the closest available seat, and if it happens to be between Sam and Kurt, well. No one seems to think that's odd.

"Last minute drama?" Puck nods in the girls' direction.

"Apparently," Sam answers, nodding.

Mike enters the room, talking to Mr. Schuester, and joins the rest of the guys as Schue claps his hands once. "All right, girls, let's see what you have."

The cluster breaks apart, a frown on Santana and Mercedes' faces both. The six of them move towards the front of the room, and Rachel starts to speak. "We chose 'Unexpected Song,' which was written by Andrew Lloyd Webber with lyrics by Don Black." She smiles brightly, and motions towards Brad for him to begin. Puck is unsurprised that the so-called group number ends up being mostly a showcase for Rachel's voice, though when the others join in, it works all right. It's not a song Puck would choose to listen to, but it fits the assignment, so he joins in the applause as they finish the chorus.

"Interesting choice," Schue says with a smile as they filter back to the chairs. "I think all of you are getting back in the groove. Now, from here on out, I'll be setting our assignments for the following week on Fridays, so we have three full days to work in all our performances. For this next week, I'd like to see each of you put together a solo performance, and we'll try to do a group number on Friday, as well." He keeps smiling as he walks over to the board and picks up a marker.

Puck has a sinking feeling in his chest as Schue begins writing. He hadn't really expected to call the theme, though he knew it was possible.

"Country!" Schue exclaims, finishing writing.

Puck snorts, and he hears Kurt giggling while Finn's grinning and chuckling a little.

Schue's smile fades as he looks at the three of them. "Is something wrong?"

"Called it," Puck announces, and he hears more laughter start.

"Then the three of you won't mind going on Monday?"

"Fine by me," Puck answers, and Kurt and Finn echo his response.

"Great," Schue nods. "We'll need just one more person to go on Monday, then…" He scans the room, and Puck sees Rachel perk up out of the corner of his eye. "Rachel, can you be prepared?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Schue," Rachel responds with a nod and a smile.

Schue spends the rest of the time review basic dance steps with all of them, dividing them into three groups. Mike and Brittany are in a group of their own, and after just a few minutes, join Finn, Sam, Mercedes, and Artie, while the other six of them are lumped together. "I'm not sure if we're 'just right' or 'stuck in the middle,'" Santana offers, and they all laugh.

As soon as the bell rings, Puck's eyes meet Kurt's, who smiles slightly and inclines his head towards the parking lot. Puck nods and picks up his bag, intent on returning his history text to his locker. He's not sure why he bothered to pull it out that morning, even.

"You headed to lunch?" Finn comes up from behind him, and Puck just shakes his head.

"Where're you going?"

"Thought about catching a movie," Puck says with a shrug. "See you at practice."

"Oh, okay. See you."

Puck replaces the textbook and heads out the door. Kurt's already sitting inside the SUV, air conditioning running, and Puck hops in, tossing his bags onto the middle seat.

"I can't believe we're really doing country," Kurt says, obviously amused. "Maybe Schue should put you in charge."

Puck laughs. "I know, that was ridiculous. I think it sort of pissed him off when we started laughing."

"Even Finn was laughing!"

"Luckily I actually know what I'm going to do, so going first isn't really a big deal."

"You should dress all in black?"

"Oh, you think so? You'd like that?" Puck smirks, raising an eyebrow at Kurt.

"I suppose you'll just have to wait and find out on Monday, won't you?"

"Tease."

"It's only teasing if I don't follow through." Kurt smiles innocently, and Puck dips his head slightly, conceding the point.

When they get to the movie theatre, Puck does the hands-in-pockets walk. He's not had to do it at school all week, since carrying a backpack around keeps his hands somewhat occupied, but he wonders if the old dude at DQ sussed them out because of his body language and extreme need to touch.

It's not his fault that he's highly tactile.

Kurt pays for the tickets, and Puck gets the food: hot dogs, since they haven't had lunch, but they still share one big pop. There aren't many people at the theatre; all the schools nearby started back this past week, and the college kids are probably gearing up for finals. Even though it's the opening day for the movie, the theatre is mostly deserted, and they settle into the back row, similar to where they sat the week before.

Puck spends the first five minutes of the movie trying to get interested in it and trying to ignore the knee pressed to his and the hand holding his. After that, he just mentally thinks _Fuck it_ and leans over to whisper in Kurt's ear.

"Do you care if we don't absorb all the plot points here?"

Kurt shakes his head immediately, and from that point, Puck spends most of the movie with his lips somewhere on Kurt, or vice versa. They manage to keep themselves dressed, which is a good thing, Puck reflects, as an usher actually comes in during the show this time. His hands definitely find their way up Kurt's shirt, though, and vice versa.

Puck is pretty damn happy when he leaves the movie theatre.

When they're driving back to the school, though, he catches Kurt smirking at him. "What?"

"Welll…" Kurt draws out the word. "Remember how I said that payback's a bitch?"

"Uh-oh." Puck flips down the visor and examines himself in the mirror. It doesn't take long to spot what Kurt's referring to–a moderately-sized hickey, high enough up on his neck that a collar wouldn't cover it, even if he were inclined to try that. "Damn. When'd you do that?"

Kurt just shrugs smugly.

"And how'm I supposed to explain it?"

"Don't," Kurt offers. "Just crack a smug grin and shrug. People will assume that they're right, even if you tried to offer a different story than what they think, anyway."

"True." Puck holds Kurt's hand the rest of the drive. They pull into the parking lot about five minutes before the final bell, so Puck takes a chance and kisses Kurt's cheek. "I'll see you this evening? What time is this thing?"

Kurt makes a face and shrugs. "Seven thirty? Family dinner's at 5:30 so I doubt Finn intended anything before 7 or so."

"'Kay. See you."

"Be good."

"Always good!"

Puck's almost done changing when the rest of the team trickles in.

"Hey, how was the movie?"

"Uh." Puck looks up at Finn a little sheepishly. "Dark?"

Finn looks confused for a moment, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "You're ridiculous."

Puck just shrugs and smirks a little.

Sam and Mike appear a few moments later. "Guess we know what you were doing this afternoon, Puck," Sam laughs, and Mike joins him.

"Yep." Puck slams the door and grins.

"What?"

"Turn around, Puck, let 'em see the other side of your neck."

Puck obliges, smirking at Finn, who makes a face. "Didn't need to know that, dude," Finn spits out, and Puck grins a little.

"So who is she?"

Puck just rolls his eyes and keeps the same smug look on his face. "I'm outta here," he announces, then heads for the field.

No one else says anything about it until after practice, when a few of the juniors make a few remarks. Puck just remains mum, because really, there's nothing he can say. He forgoes showering again and heads towards home, picking up the mail in the lobby before continuing upstairs. His mom asked if he was willing to cook tonight, so he pulls out a jar of spaghetti sauce and a box of noodles and starts heating the sauce.

While he waits on the water to boil, he tries to figure out if he should even attempt to get alcohol to take to the Hudmel place. On the one hand, it's what almost everyone expects of him. On the other hand, Kurt claims that Burt actually likes him, at present, and Puck doesn't really want to fuck that up.

Plus, alcohol-procuring Puck is definitely not the Puck that's been showing up for the last five months or so.

The water's just started to boil when Hannah and his mom get home, and Hannah makes a face when she sees his wearing his clothes from practice. "Why don't you take a shower?"

"'Cause I figured I'd just get hot again cooking," he retorts, making a face of his own.

"Are you going out tonight?"

"Yeah, Finn and Rachel organized some kind of glee club thing. I guess I'll be back around midnight."

"We have breakfast with Carole and all of them tomorrow, I assume you remember."

"Yeah, I remember." Which is pretty sweet; he gets to see Kurt almost all day, that way. "I think Kurt and I are going to do something after that."

"Okay." Puck sets the table while Hannah pours drinks, and then they all sit down to eat.

Puck showers after that, flopping onto his bed while he stares at the clock. Ten minutes of walking means leaving before 7:25 would be ridiculous. He pulls out one of his notebooks and starts notating as he plucks out a tune on his guitar. He still has to select two scores to send in for the pre-audition screening, and while he's confident about one of his choices, he wonders if he needs to write something new for the second.

His phone chimes after awhile, and he checks it immediately.

 _a few ppl here already if you want to come now xx_

Puck looks up and checks the time. 7:10. Sweet. _omw xx_

He tosses his notebook aside and puts his guitar up, heading for the door. He looks himself over in the mirror briefly, flexes his arms, and shrugs. Dark red v-neck and jeans, the expensive ones; it'll do.

"Mom! I'm leaving!"

"Okay, Noah. Have fun."

Puck locks the door behind him and trots down the stairs, out into the open air. It's still warm out, but at least it's not as sticky and hot as it had been during football practice. The walk to Kurt's house takes just over ten minutes, and when he reaches the porch, he sees that the front door is open, the screen door bearing a note that says to come on in and then out into the back yard.

Rachel, Finn, Santana, Artie, and Kurt are sitting around a table as he walks outside.

"Where's the alcohol, Puckerman?"

Puck looks at Santana with a raised eyebrow. "Didn't bring any."

"Thank god," Finn mutters.

"Wuss," Santana frowns. "Oh, ho! What's this?" She gets up and pokes at Puck's neck. "Too busy macking to find some alcohol?"

"Yeah, sure." Puck sits down in her vacant seat, rolling his eyes. Before she can continue, though, Sam and Mercedes walk into the backyard, followed shortly thereafter by Mike and Tina, then the remainder of the club. Finn builds a bonfire, pop is passed around, and somehow a popcorn throwing/eating contest gets started, which Puck just watches.

"We don't even need alcohol to act ridiculous, it seems." Puck starts a little and then smiles. Kurt's come up behind him and is watching the rest of them, too.

"Whose idea was this, again?"

"The contest? Brittany." Kurt laughs. "And she's doing quite well. Not to mention Rachel hasn't had a chance to try to drag out her karaoke machine."

"Try?"

"I may have liberated it from Finn's truck. And then put it in the Navigator. Then locked it, and hid all sets of keys to it."

"Yeah, but Finn could just use your door code and get it."

"Finn doesn't know my door code."

"Ohh. Devious."

"I'd rather play Rock Band than listen to Rachel sing karaoke, personally, and I suspect my opinion is shared by the majority here."

"Definitely." Puck drains his cup and frowns, then holds out his hand. "Want a refill?"

"Yeah, thanks." Kurt passes his cup to Puck, their fingertips brushing, and they stay still for a moment before another scream of laughter goes through the yard, breaking the moment.

Puck shuffles into the kitchen and pours both of them more pop. Carole's leaning against the counter and smiles at him. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, a'right," Puck acknowledges, nodding. Then he grins. "You have plenty of, ahem. _Turkey bacon_ for tomorrow?"

Carole throws her head back and laughs. "I do indeed." She pats him on the back. "I'll see you in the morning, Noah."

"See you, Mrs. H," he nods and smiles, going back out into the backyard and handing Kurt his cup.

Before he can speak, Rachel's yelling over everyone else. "It's time for karaoke!"

There are a few groans but no one explicitly tells her no. "Finn, let me have your keys and I'll go get the machine!"

"That won't be necessary," Kurt breaks in smoothly. "Said machine is safely locked in _my_ car. Keys are not accessible." Puck almost laughs at the expression on Rachel's face. "There is, however, Rock Band in the living room."

"Yes!" Sam pumps his fist once and heads towards the door, the others trailing behind him. Puck walks in just ahead of Kurt, and Rachel's at the very end.

"Kurt! That–I–"

"Everyone likes Rock Band better, Rachel, because more people can participate at once."

"Oh." Rachel falls silent as they cross through the kitchen.

By the time Puck steps into the living room, Sam, Artie, Quinn, Tina, Santana, and Brittany have claimed first go, and are already selecting a song. They finally settle on "Combat, Baby," with Santana on vocals with Brittany backing, then switch to Quinn on vocals with Artie backing on the next song, "The Power of Love."

Then they switch, and Puck finds himself on guitar while Mercedes and Kurt handle the vocals for "I Love Rock and Roll." Then Rachel commandeers the microphones for herself and Finn, quickly starting "Good Vibrations."

They go back and forth for the next two hours, groups switching up after every song. Puck does the lead vocals once, for "I Wanna Be Sedated." Finally, Burt enters the room and announces it's time for everyone to head home.

As everyone trickles out the door, Kurt raises an eyebrow and asks Puck if he needs a ride. Puck's about to reply in the affirmative when Sam breaks in.

"You need a ride? I can give you one. No need for Kurt to leave the house." Sam flashes a bright smile, and there's no reason for Puck to decline the offer. He follows Sam out of the house and casts a brief regretful look back at Kurt.

"So, seriously," Sam says as soon as they're in his car. "Where'd you get the hickey?"

"Seriously not telling you," Puck replies, amusement coloring his voice.

"Aww, c'mon. I'm pretty sure you left school, so it introduces more possibilities than it leaves out."

Puck rolls his eyes. "No, Sammy. Not telling you."

"Does anyone know who it is?"

"Mmm." Puck considers how to answer. "Yes."

"Who?"

"Yeah, not telling you that, either," Puck replies, and he's saved from further inquiry when his phone chimes.

 _I dislike Sam greatly right now. I'll see you tomorrow morning. xx_

Puck grins and goes to reply.

 _Ditto. Can't wait. Sweet dreams. xxx_

"Dude, who are you texting?"

Puck looks up quickly, blanking his face. "What?"

"You're like, _beaming_."

Puck rolls his eyes. "Whatever." Yeah, so what. He probably was. At the moment he was kind of pissed at Sam, because Kurt probably would've walked him upstairs at least. Which would have meant kissing at least.

Puck likes kissing Kurt.

Puck doesn't like missing out an opportunity to kiss Kurt.

Ergo, Puck's not happy.

"Same lady that gave you that mark?" Sam needles.

"No, okay," Puck snaps. "Geez. I'm gonna fucking…" he trails off, because of course that's exactly what Kurt meant by payback. He scowls at himself.

"Okay, okay," Sam concedes as he pulls up to Puck's apartment building. "No big deal."

"Yeah, all right," Puck says with a nod, stepping out of the car. "Thanks for the ride, dude."

"No problem. See you Monday."

Puck waves as Sam speeds off, and Puck lets himself in the building, taking the stairs two at a time. It's getting late, and they've got Carole's big breakfast in the morning, but all he wants to do is run. Running up the stairs will have to do.


	11. Lookin' Forward To the Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Turkey" bacon, mad disc golf skillz, and Finn prefers they not get 'grindy.' Also: UNCOOL PUCKERMAN.

Puck curses his body's adaptability to routine when he's awake just after six am the next morning. They're not due at the Hudmel house until 9 am. Puck takes a shower and gets dressed, and then does something he never thought he would.

He voluntarily does schoolwork on a Saturday morning.

The positive aspect is that he finishes everything he has due for both Monday and Tuesday, which means he can do whatever he wants the rest of the weekend, except for work the next day. He checks the clock; close to eight-thirty, and he can hear Hannah in her room. He goes into the living room and flips on the television until his mom and Hannah both appear.

"Ready, Noah?"

"Yeah." Puck makes a disgusted face. "I was up at six."

"Eww," Hannah remarks, and Puck nods, agreeing with her.

"Your body's just getting used to your usual schedule," his mom concludes, and Puck rolls his eyes behind her back as they walk down the stairs. Yeah, thanks, he'd figured that out on his own.

The drive is thankfully short. Puck's pretty proud of himself, actually, because he manages not to bounce his knee impatiently the entire ride. He also restrains himself from bounding up the stairs (by opening Hannah's door for her). It's handy that Hannah grabs his hand as they walk up the stairs, because that further slows him down.

Burt and Carole open the door together, Carole and his mom exchanging greetings and hugs, then Carole introduces Burt to Rina.

"Burt Hummel," he says firmly, with a smile, taking Rina's hand. "Pleasure to meet you. Call me Burt."

"Rina Puckerman. Please, call me Rina." She's smiling and steps aside so Puck and Hannah can enter.

"Puckerman," Burt nods, and Puck returns the nod before being grabbed into a hug by Carole.

Puck steps back as Carole releases him and tugs Hannah forward, then picks her up, something he rarely does anymore. "Hannah, this is Mr. Hummel. He's Kurt's dad."

Hannah grins. "Hi. I'm Hannah."

Burt grins at her. "Hi there. How old are you? Ten? Twelve?"

She giggles. "No, I'm eight!"

"Only eight?" Burt feigns surprise, then laughs.

"You're funny!" Hannah proclaims, wiggling until Puck sets her down. "Just like Kurt!"

With that, she scampers off, and an echo of "Hi, Finn!" filters back into the entryway.

Burt and Carole lead Rina towards the living room, Puck bringing up the rear, when a hand pulls on his. Grinning, Puck changes course, walking into the dining room where Kurt's standing there, grinning as well.

"Good morning," Kurt murmurs, before pulling Puck into his arms. Kurt's arm wraps around his shoulders, the other stretching across his mid-back, and Puck returns the embrace, one arm around Kurt's waist, the other around Kurt's neck. They hold the position for a long moment, pressing close together, before Puck moves his head to find Kurt's mouth.

Kurt slides his tongue along Puck's lower lip and Puck lets his lips fall apart as Kurt's tongue slides into his mouth. Puck mirrors the movement, his own tongue running along the inside of Kurt's mouth, mapping it slowly.

Puck moves his hand to the back of Kurt's head, fingers running through Kurt's hair, pulling Kurt closer, and he feels Kurt's hand trail down his back, coming to rest at the small of his back. Kurt's hand slips under the bottom of Puck's t-shirt, and one finger falls underneath Puck's waistband. Puck rolls his hips forward, forgetting where they are, who's in the next room, and Kurt whimpers into his mouth.

Puck shifts his weight and moves his arm around Kurt a little, bringing Kurt's pelvis in line with his own and backing them up against the wall. Kurt throws his own hips forward and Puck hisses into Kurt's mouth as their erections brush against each other.

"Oh. OH! UNCOOL PUCKERMAN! Just… geez, you guys!"

Puck's eyes fly open, and he sees a little bit of panic in Kurt's eyes, panic that's probably visible in his own as well. He feels Kurt's hands slowly pull away, and he resists the impulse to jump away from Kurt because, dammit, they weren't doing anything wrong. He does pull away slowly and turns to glare at Finn.

"Dude," he finally grinds out.

Finn's gaping a little, and Puck looks over at Kurt and returns the small smile Kurt's giving him. Their fingers slide together and Kurt pushes himself off the wall.

"Finn," he begins, then stops.

"I, uh–Mom said to come into the kitchen and help her carry stuff," Finn finally forces out, not meeting either of their eyes.

"Okay," Kurt responds, sounding a lot calmer than Puck feels. Kurt squeezes Puck's hand and shoots him a quick glance. "Come help me separate out the turkey bacon from the regular stuff?" he asks with a smirk, and Puck nods, stifling laughter.

Carole smiles at them as they enter the kitchen, handing first Finn, then Puck and finally Kurt each a platter full of food. "I added a few things to the menu this year," she confides. "Three teenage boys and a heart patient? We'll be lucky to fit our plates on the table."

Puck looks down at the platter in his hand suspiciously. "What _is_ this?"

"Tofu sausage," Kurt offers. "It's awful, but Dad says it's better than no sausage at all, if those are the only two choices."

"Eww."

"To make up for it, there's monkey bread," Kurt offers, lifting his right hand, which is holding a plate full of a brown sugar-coated carbohydrate of some kind.

"That looks…"

"Sinful? Definitely." They set the platters on the table, and Carole's prediction isn't far from true. Kurt sits down, pulling Puck down beside him, and Puck slings his arm over Kurt's shoulders, pulling him against his side. Kurt's hand rests lightly on Puck's thigh and Puck closes his eyes for a moment, a smile on his lips.

Hannah slides into the seat next to him, and then Burt and Rina enter the room at the same time, and when they look at he and Kurt, then exchange a glance, he's pretty sure that means he and Kurt were being discussed.

"Ooh, Carole's turkey bacon!" Hannah exclaims, and Rina sighs. "I never can make our turkey bacon as tasty as yours, Carole," she says as Carole sits.

"I don't know why," Carole says sympathetically, and then winks at Puck. Puck hides a grin as Kurt pinches his leg gently.

The table falls silent for almost ten minutes, except for staggered requests to "Please pass the salt," and "Keep the bowls moving to the right, Finn!" as they fill their plates and dig in. Carole starts the conversation after that, asking Hannah about her first week back at school and her classmates. Puck has a hard time keeping a straight face when she starts complaining (again) about Stevie, and he's very careful not to look at Kurt or Finn. One of them must've finally broken a little, though, because Burt breaks into the conversation.

"One of you boys want to explain what's so funny?"

"Uh… Stevie is Sam's little brother," Finn offers weakly.

"Stevie apparently mentions Hannah quite frequently," Kurt adds, and Puck sneaks a glance at the careful smile Kurt's wearing.

"Ohhh," Carole and Rina respond in unison, nodding, and Hannah looks at the rest of the table suspiciously.

"What? What does he say?"

"I'm sure he just, uh, regrets chasing you," Burt finally responds, and the others all nod solemnly.

"So, what about you boys?" Carole asks then. "How was the first week?"

Puck, Kurt, and Finn all exchange glances. "Uh, Puck figured out Mr. Schuester'd have us do country songs for glee," Finn offers after a moment.

"Oh? What are you each going to sing?" Rina breaks in.

"I thought I'd go with a classic–something from the man in black," Puck says with a nod.

"Maybe Garth Brooks," Finn muses, and Puck exchanges a look with Kurt. "What?"

Kurt shrugs. "Puck just might've called that, too."

"Well, what are you going to do?" Finn retorts.

"Oh, probably 'Crazy,'" Kurt answers casually, and Puck narrows his eyes for a moment. The answer was almost _too_ casual. He makes a mental note to get to the bottom of that later.

Kurt frowns then. "And did you know? Physics. It's not really science."

"It's not?" Finn asks, forehead wrinkled, and Puck remembers that Finn's taking A&P for his senior year science.

"No! It's actually _math_!" Puck can't resist chuckling, and Kurt pinches him again. "Stop laughing!"

"You did fine with the cars," Puck points out.

"Yeah, and I have no idea why, so it's not going to do me that much good!"

"Cars?" Carole interjects. "What do cars have to do with physics?"

"Hot Wheels," Puck clarifies. "We had tracks and everything."

"You two in the same class?" Burt asks.

Kurt nods. "Mmm-hmm." He pops a piece of bacon into his mouth. "Thankfully. You know how much I enjoy math, Dad."

Burt chuckles. "I take it you can actually understand math, unlike Kurt here, then?" he addresses Puck.

Puck nods.

"He skipped two years of math classes and still made As," Finn interjects. "And aren't you doing math through dual enrollment?"

Puck half-glares at Finn, because, really. His mom doesn't need to be reminded of how many classes he's skipped over the years, and he's pretty sure there wasn't really any need for Burt to know about it, period. "Yeah, I am," he answers with a nod.

"Oh, I can't believe how old you all are," Carole says suddenly. "All of you leaving next year! Hannah, you'll have to eat all this food yourself!"

Hannah's eyes light up and she cackles. "Yes!"

Everyone else laughs, then, and Puck can't help but be glad that it staves off the questions about the next year, where they are all applying, and so forth. He wants a little while longer before he has to share everything, even with just this small group of people.

After breakfast is finished, Puck, Finn, and Kurt are pressed into clean-up duty, while the adults and Hannah go onto the porch with coffee (or, in Hannah's case, hot chocolate).

They're about halfway through the dishes when Finn lets out a long sigh. "Guys?"

Puck looks up, raising an eyebrow, and Kurt nods. "Yeah?"

"I don't mind the kissing and stuff. I mean, it's kind of sweet. But can you stop with all the...the...grindy stuff? In front of me? Please?"

"The… what?" Kurt's mouth is hanging open, and his cheeks are rapidly turning pink.

Puck turns around, and yeah, okay, maybe his ass _was_ kind of pressed up against Kurt, but it's not like it's a conscious thing. Still, he flushes a little, too. "Sorry?" he mutters.

Finn shakes his head, seemingly resigned and exasperated at the same time, but doesn't say anything more, and Puck tries to be conscious of what they're doing while they finish the dishes. As Finn puts away the last things, Kurt pours them each a cup of coffee, and they head out to the porch as well. Finn slumps against the railing, and Puck and Kurt sit sideways on the stairs, Puck leaning his head against Kurt's side. It's sort of public, because anyone could walk by, but screw it. It's not even noon on a Saturday. Most people in Lima are in their houses or their backyards, not walking around looking to spot stealthy gay people.

Huh. Stealthy. Like a ninja!

He grins to himself and absently flexes his arm. He could totally be a ninja.

" _What_ are you doing?" Kurt whispers, and Puck jumps a little.

"Uh. Nothing important," Puck admits sheepishly. "Just thinking."

"Okay," Kurt replies with a look of disbelief, but he doesn't ask again, and they sit on the stairs, not really listening to their parents. Puck's startled out of his reverie when his mom calls his name.

"… right, Noah? Noah?"

"What?" Puck blinks and looks over at her. "What is it?"

"I said that Hannah and I should be going, but that I thought you were staying here?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah." Puck nods, and Kurt squeezes his shoulder gently.

"I'll return him later," Kurt says lightly, and Rina and Hannah both laugh.

"Don't be in too big of a hurry," Hannah says, sticking her tongue out as she runs down the stairs.

"Thanks, your brother loves you too," Puck retorts, and then everyone laughs.

After Hannah and his mom leave, Burt and Carole go back into the house, and Finn disappears, too, making some excuse about homework, or Rachel, or maybe doing homework with Rachel. He was kind of mumbling, and Puck wasn't sure he wanted details anyway.

"What do you want to do?" Kurt murmurs after a few minutes of silence, his hand slowly trailing down Puck's mohawk.

"Mmm." Puck leans into Kurt's touch and has the realization that he probably resembles a cat. Or a puppy.

"Besides sit here on the porch, that is," Kurt continues, picking up Puck's hand in his free one. Kurt brings Puck's fingers to his lips, kissing each fingertip lightly.

"We should drive a little," Puck finally says. "I don't know, a state park or something. Far enough that we're not likely to see anyone we know. Not so far as Dayton or anything."

"Hmm." Kurt moves his hand from Puck's head, but keeps kissing his fingers and palm. Puck hears him fumble with the phone, looking something up. After a few more moments, Kurt speaks again. "There's a state park up in Van Buren. No swimming. Hmm. Something called disc golf."

"Disc golf?"

"Like Frisbees, I guess. Instead of golf balls and tees?"

"That could be cool."

"I think we have a couple out in the garage."

"'Kay."

Kurt tugs on Puck's hand. "C'mon, let's go see."

Puck follows Kurt into the garage, where he finds three discs surprisingly fast. Kurt looks down at his clothes and frowns. "Let me go change, okay? Then we'll go." He presses a fast kiss to Puck's lips and then turns, dashing into the house.

Puck just smiles, a little startled, and waits in the garage, sitting on top of the freezer with the three discs in his hands. When Kurt returns, he's wearing jeans and a v-neck t-shirt, but they look almost painted on, with one of his near-ubiquitous scarves. He's wearing the same leather sandals he wore earlier in the week, and Puck hops down, pulling him close for a kiss. Yeah, that's Kurt, all right; no one else Puck knows would even consider dressing like that for a day at the state park.

And Puck loves it.

They spend the forty-five minute drive northward listening to the local country station, trying to guess at what songs each of the others in glee club will choose to sing the next week. It's easy to navigate off 75 and to the state park, and the start of the disc golf course is pretty clearly marked, too.

"Let's take a few practice shots on the first hole," Kurt suggests, "and then we'll start keeping track."

"Okay," Puck agrees with a shrug. By the time they start actually keeping track, though, he's frowning a little. "Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Have you played this before?"

"No." Kurt gives him a blank look. "Why?"

"Look at your score. Then look at par."

"Is that bad?"

Puck laughs. "No, it's good. The lower, the better."

"Oh." Kurt smiles, pleased. His cheeks are flushed from being outside, and his hair's being blown around by the warm breeze off the lake. "So you're saying I'm some kind of natural, then?"

"Apparently so," Puck grins and steps closer. "It's kind of hot, you know?" He cups Kurt's cheek in his hand and gives him a slow kiss.

Kurt pulls away sooner than Puck would like. "Puck, you do realize…" he gestures around them.

"Yeah, and?" Puck kisses him again. "No one here is from stupid Lima. And we're kind of obvious when we're not trying to NOT be obvious." He frowns. "Did that make sense?"

Kurt laughs and shakes his head. "No, but I know what you meant. I think." He leaves his hand in Puck's as they walk to the start of the next hole.

Puck's a little bit flabbergasted by how well Kurt takes to the game, though he guesses he shouldn't be. Kurt's not traditionally athletic, but he's definitely got physicality.

"What do I win?"

"We were playing for a prize?"

"Absolutely," Kurt nods. "I just wasn't going to tell you if I didn't win." He grins impishly. Puck feints towards him, also grinning, and Kurt takes off running. He's not really trying to run away, though, so it doesn't take Puck long at all to catch up, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and lifting him up off the ground. "Ack! Put me down!"

"Uh-uh." Puck shakes his head, moving Kurt with the same motion. "I have to give you your prize."

"My prize?" Kurt wriggles a little, pressing back against Puck, who groans and lets Kurt drops back to the ground.

"You play dirty."

"Are you really complaining?" Kurt whispers, wrapping his arms around Puck's neck.

"No," Puck breathes, putting his hands on Kurt's hips. "Not really."

Kurt smiles and initiates a slow, sloppy kiss, Puck's hands on Kurt's hips the only thing that keeps either of them from making the kiss inappropriate for public. Kurt pulls back and then whispers into Puck's ear. "You'll just have to try to win next time."

"Oh, I won," Puck smirks. "Just not the disc golf." He puts his arm around Kurt's back, steering them back towards the car. "Hungry?"

"Did you notice anything when we drove through… I hesitate to call it a town," Kurt laughs.

"I think there was a pizza place. Named Dragon something-or-other."

"That sounds good." Kurt steers back to the little town, parking at the post office and walking down the block to Dragon's Lair Pizza and Pub. When they step out of the SUV, Puck almost starts to stuff his hands in his pockets, when he remembers that they're not in Lima. He takes Kurt's hand in his, and he's pretty sure that the smile on his face would be termed possessive.

He doesn't really give a fuck.

Kurt moves closer to him, their bodies turning towards each other, and Puck's pretty damn happy as he holds the door open at the pizza place. Their joined hands get a second look from the girl doing the seating, but the dude who comes over to take their order doesn't bat an eye. They agree on a single pizza, and a "dragon ear" for dessert. When they finish eating, a local band is setting up for live music, and they each order another pop, staying to hear the first hour or so of the music. The band's not that great, but they play songs that are familiar, and Puck even pulls Kurt up to dance during YMCA. Kurt protests and giggles, but by the middle of the song is getting kind of into it, and Puck's pretty damn proud of both of them.

When they realize it's getting close to 9, they head for the door, and the manager waves, inviting them back another weekend. Puck can't help but think it's funny; Van Buren's a much smaller town, but they feel a little safer there, just by virtue of being anonymous. He keeps his arm wrapped around Kurt as they walk to the car, Kurt's arm around him as well, and he leans against the door, pulling Kurt towards him.

Kurt braces himself on the door and grins. "Good day?"

"Definitely." Puck plants a kiss on Kurt's forehead, then his nose, then his chin. "You?"

"Absolutely," Kurt nods, and kisses Puck soundly. "And now I'd better get you home, so you can go to work." He sighs, trailing his fingers down Puck's forearms as he pulls away. "What are you doing after work?"

Puck shrugs. "Whatever you're doing?" he offers hopefully.

"Well," Kurt sighs again as he opens the door. "I should probably get some work done on my essays. And I have a 45 minute essay for English. But. We could work in the same place."

"Okay, cool. My place, around 1:45?"

Kurt nods. "I should be done with whatever it is Mike and Tina have up their sleeve by then."

"Oh, right, yeah. Ballroom."

"Yeah. I suppose I'll see."

They reach Lima just before ten, and Kurt tuns off the engine as he parks. "Want me to walk you up?"

"Sure."

Once inside, they move together again, headed up the stairs, and Puck leans Kurt against the wall next to his apartment door. "Dream about me tonight," he whispers, tracing his finger down Kurt's jawline, then following his finger with tiny kisses.

"Okay," Kurt breathes onto the tip of Puck's finger, and it seems to Puck like he's waiting for Puck to replace the finger with his mouth. Puck's more than happy to oblige, kissing him slowly, making him wait before he deepens the kiss, and then pulling back long before either of them are ready to be done.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Puck adds, then kisses Kurt's cheek as he goes to unlock the door.

"Be good," Kurt whispers, nodding but not otherwise moving.

"I'm always good," Puck says with a smile, brushing his fingers against Kurt's before going in the now open door and then closing it behind him.

He leans on the door for a minute, listening to Kurt's quiet footsteps get fainter and fainter as he goes down the hall. The rest of the apartment is dark, and he's grateful, because he doesn't want to make conversation at the moment. He fumbles with his phone, punching the icon for Flashlight, and shuffles quietly down the hall to his bedroom.

He peels off his clothes and climbs under the covers, setting his alarm before hiding his face in his pillow. He feels simultaneously free and heavy. Free because he's just had an entire day where he didn't hide anything. Heavy because it was only one day, and he knows that tomorrow it's back to hiding. That it's only one day, and it's a year before they can grab more than one day here or there.

Heavy because he's noticed the way Kurt dances around committing to anything other than the next day, or the more vague "getting out of Ohio." Their goals are aligned, and Puck knows they both want, _need_ to leave Lima, even if it's not together.

He just doesn't know what Kurt's silence means.

 

Puck's still getting to know the Sunday crowd at Starbucks. Some of them, obviously regulars, have asked about the person who used to work Sunday mornings, which means Puck spends a fair amount of time explaining that the other dude quit, and for the next year, they're stuck with Puck. It's a long day, but when Puck walks out of the store at 1, he's clocked seven hours, meaning he'll still have twenty hours a week.

Twenty hours a week means he keeps eligibility for benefits. Eligibility means $500 a year in tuition. $750 once he hits April 2014.

His phone chimes while he's walking home.

 _Just leaving Mike's. See you in 15. xx_

Puck smiles. _K. xx_

Puck throws his work clothes into the laundry and takes a quick shower, throwing on fresh clothes and toweling his head off. He's just padding back into the living room when there's a knock on the door.

"Hey."

"Hi," Kurt smiles brightly and steps inside.

Puck pulls him close for a moment and kisses him softly. "How was Mike's thing?"

"Well." Kurt drops his backpack down next to the couch and pivots. "Get this. It's a pretty cool idea." He grins. "Ballroom dancing, right, first two minutes of the song, pretty traditional stuff. Then. _Then_. We all switch partners." There's something about the look in Kurt's eye that clues Puck in.

"Seriously? You really think Schue will go for that?"

"Please," Kurt snorts. "Straight boys love a hint of lesbianism. Plus it's Invitationals and not a 'real' competition." He pulls Puck close. "C'mere, let's see what you got."

"I can't dance!" Puck protests.

"That's the beauty of it," Kurt responds. "You only have to lead through the basic beginning stuff. Then once everyone switches, you can follow." He pulls Puck into a proper dancing position, counting off and then starting to move when they come back around to one. Puck feels stiff and uncoordinated, and he's not the worst dancer in the club.

No, that's Finn's crown.

After a few moments, though, Kurt pulls away and shakes his head. "Relax, no one's grading you. It's just like dancing when we're all in the room goofing off, just with a partner giving you direction." He pulls out his phone and starts a song playing.

"Hey, that's The Killers."

"Yep. Tina's pick. It's perfect, though."

Puck grins and nods, and when Kurt takes him through the steps again, Kurt's beaming.

"See? Told you." Kurt flops down on the couch. "So." He peers up at Puck. "I have a challenge for you."

"Yeah?" Puck sits beside him.

"Well, really for your arms," Kurt clarifies.

"What about my guns?"

"Lifts."

"Lifts? Like you want me to toss one of the girls up in the air while we're dancing?"

Kurt shakes his head slowly, pursing his lips. "Not exactly."

"Okay…"

"Me." Kurt springs back up, pulling Puck with him. "Not one of the really high lifts, probably just chest high, because there's not a huge height differential between us, but between your guns and my core strength…" he trails off.

"Seriously?" Puck's raised an eyebrow. "I don't want to drop you."

Kurt waves his hand as if that's not even a worry, and hell, maybe it's not for him. "I was thinking we'd just see if we can manage it. If we can, we'll do it at the invitational. If not, no one's going to know the difference."

Puck's still a little dubious, but he shrugs. "Okay. If you say so?"

Kurt laughs. "Come here. Let's see how it goes without dancing on either side of it." He grabs Puck's hands and positions them on either side of his hips. "Okay. So we just sort of bend our knees, and as we come up, lift up." Kurt's holding himself somewhat rigidly. "Count down."

"Okay." Puck takes a deep breath. "Three, two, one." Their first attempt results in a lot of nothing, as does the second. They nearly fall over the third and fifth times; the fourth time is aborted when Hannah runs shrieking through the room, holding the phone to her ear.

On the sixth attempt, though, Puck manages to keep Kurt in the air for five seconds, and by the fifteenth or sixteenth time, they're up to twenty seconds, with half a spin in that time. Kurt's laughing, delighted, and Puck can't help grinning, too.

"See? We can totally manage it!" He claps his hands a little and then sags forward, leaning on Puck's chest. "Please tell me you can give me copious quantities of pop."

Puck laughs. "Sure. C'mon." He pulls Kurt by the hand into the kitchen and pours them each a glass. "Have you been dancing all morning?"

Kurt nods, gulping down his glass. "I got to Mike's around 10, Tina and Brittany were there, too, and came straight here."

"Refill?"

"Please." Kurt holds out his now-empty glass. Puck pours another glass and walks them back into the living room. Kurt sits down heavily, and Puck sits at the other end of the couch, swinging Kurt's feet into his lap.

Kurt keeps drinking while Puck slides Kurt's shoes and socks off, but he pauses, looking surprised when Puck keeps Kurt's feet in his lap after they're bare.

Puck just smiles a little and starts rubbing the ball of Kurt's foot, pressing in firmly with his thumbs. "Ohhh," Kurt exhales. "That feels wonderful."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm." Kurt lets his head rest against the back of the couch.

Puck moves his hands slowly down Kurt's foot, then back up to each individual toe. When he's satisfied with that foot, he runs one hand gently over the top, then picks up the other one, repeating the process. Kurt's still resting his head against the couch, smiling tiredly as he watches Puck. After Puck finishes with both feet, he bends down and, wrinkling his nose just a little to get a laugh from Kurt, kisses the top of each foot. "Better?"

"God, yes." Kurt wiggles his toes happily. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," Puck replies. He slides Kurt's feet back into the floor gently. "Now, if you're going to work, I'm gonna work a little too."

"'Kay."

"Be right back."

Kurt smiles, and Puck walks down the hall to grab one of his music notebooks, a regular notebook, and his guitar. When he comes back into the living room, Kurt's pulled out a couple of notebooks of his own and a novel. They sit on the couch companionably, working on their separate projects, legs, arms, and sides pressing, touching, and intertwining at times throughout the time. Always, though, some kind of touching.

Puck keeps the timer while Kurt does his essay for AP English, and then Puck works on a tune while Kurt scribbles in his notebook, brainstorming for his application essays. Puck's lost track of time when his mom comes in. "Kurt, dear, do you want to stay for dinner?"

Kurt looks up, startled. "Oh, is it that late already?"

"It's almost 5:30."

"Oh, wow." Kurt exchanges a glance with Puck, who nods, and then Kurt turns back to Rina. "Yes, thank you."

When dinner's over, and Kurt's gone home, Puck retreats back to his room, thinking that he could get used to Sundays like this one. Except, he admits to himself, forgoing the part where Kurt leaves at the end of the evening seems like it would be even better.


	12. Man in Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys aren't mindreaders; just because they're gay doesn't mean they talk about their Feelings.

Puck decides to take Kurt's suggestion, and changes into black pants and a black t-shirt when he's done with work in the morning. He smirks when he exits the store, because Kurt's eyes light up in a way that is not just from the huge coffee drink Puck's holding.

"Good morning." Kurt's practically purring, eyes fixed on Puck while he unwraps his straw and slides it into his drink. He purses his lips around the straw and takes a drink, still watching Puck.

"Morning," Puck responds, slowly grinning. "I guess you do like."

Kurt nods, cheeks tinting a little pink. "Yes."

"But we still have to go to school," Puck points out after a few more moments, amused.

"Oh!" Kurt jumps a little and blushes fully. "Right."

Kurt's quiet on the ride over, his hand on Puck's and his eyes sliding over at every intersection. Puck tries not to let himself smirk too much. When they reach the school, Puck reaches for both his bags and his guitar, but Kurt stops him with a shake of his head. "I'll give you a ride back to work this afternoon, just leave that bag here."

"'Kay, thanks," Puck smiles and then holds Kurt's gaze for a minute before climbing out of the car. Damn, but he wants to grab Kurt and lean him against the back of the Navigator, kissing him until his lips are red and full. Puck bites his lip and forces his mind in other directions, because if it keeps going down the track it wants to, he's going to have to carry his guitar in a very awkward way.

It turns out that he doesn't have to worry about it for much longer, because Brittany swipes Kurt away as they're walking through the lot, chattering about dancing, and Kurt gives Puck a small wave and a raise of the eyebrows as Brittany pulls him down the hall. Puck wonders where Brittany's going, since she's in history first period with Puck himself, but this is Brittany. Puck's unsurprised when Brittany wanders into class five minutes after the bell.

Puck spends most of physics trying to concentrate and failing, because Kurt's slipped off his shoe and has his foot up Puck's pant leg. Puck's glad they're in the back of the room, because he keeps grinning and jumping in his seat. Kurt smirks at him.

"I don't think we have a full set of notes even between the two of us, today," Puck points out at the end of class.

"Not my fault," Kurt quickly responds, even though he's still in the process of replacing his shoe on his foot.

"Right." Puck snorts. "Not your fault at all."

"I'm glad you see things my way," Kurt replies primly, picking up his bag. "See you later, Johnny." His eyes run up and down Puck a final time and then he's out the door. Puck shakes his head, groaning a little, and heads to class.

Rachel's staring at him expectantly through most of the class, when she's not scribbling notes frantically, so he's unsurprised to find her in front of his desk before the bell has even finished ringing.

"Johnny Cash, Puck?"

"The man in black himself," Puck agrees with a nod, picking up his bag.

"Oh, what an excellent choice!" Rachel agrees, walking beside him. "I noticed none of you were at temple on Saturday."

"Yeah, we were eating bacon," Puck says with a smirk.

"That's not funny!" Rachel smacks his bicep.

"Ow," Puck mock-complains. "And I wasn't joking. Mrs. H always has this big first-week-of-school breakfast. It's tradition," he explains with a shrug, glossing over the part where last year, the tradition was interrupted. "And Mrs. H cooks really great, uh, _turkey_ bacon."

"Puck!" Rachel's eyes are wide as they enter the choir room.

Puck just rolls his eyes and grabs his guitar from where he left it earlier. He looks around the room while he tunes it, noticing that Kurt looks a little pissed, glaring at his hands as he stares at his lap. Weird. He also notices Kurt's changed clothes, or taken off some, because now he's just wearing a t-shirt with his jeans, and his earlier shoes have been replaced by Cons that Puck's pretty sure Kurt only owns because they sometimes wear them to perform.

Puck doesn't have time to ask Kurt what's up, though, because Schue walks in then. "Great, Puck, you're ready!" he remarks as soon as everyone falls silent. "Why don't you start us out?"

"Okay." Puck shrugs and steps to the front of the room. A couple of whistles echo in the room but Puck rolls his eyes and starts playing the first chords. He's purposely slowed the song a little, to give it a little more of a melancholy feel. As opposed to a mariachi feel, which is sometimes how it comes out.

 _I went down, down, down and the flames went higher  
And it burns, burns, burns, The ring of fire._

Puck smirks a little and makes an effort not to look at anyone in particular.

 _The taste of love is sweet when hearts like ours meet  
I fell for you like a child. Ohh, but the fire went wild._

When Puck finishes the song, he's grinning, because he knows he killed it. He sweeps the room with his eyes and notices a small smile on Kurt's face, a big almost-too-knowing grin on Finn's, and various expressions of approval.

"Great job, Puck," Schue enthuses. "Let's see what you've got, Finn," he continues, and Puck takes Finn's vacated seat.

"Friends in Low Places," murmurs Kurt from behind him, and Puck presses his lips together to hold in the laughter. Sure enough, before long, Finn's crooning.

 _Well, I guess I was wrong  
I just don't belong  
But then, I've been there before  
Everything's all right  
I'll just say goodnight  
And I'll show myself to the door_

Puck's pretty sure it's the first time Rachel Berry has even feigned enthusiasm for a Garth Brooks song.

 _I'm not big on social graces  
Think I'll slip on down to the oasis  
Oh, I've got friends in low places_

By the last chorus, though, most of the room is singing along, Puck himself included, because it's a fun song. A few of the girls have even gotten up, dancing along.

"Fantastic!" Schue nods at Finn. "What a great idea."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Finn grins.

"Well, those are two tough acts to follow. Rachel, are you up to the challenge?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Schuester."

Puck has a hard time keeping a straight face when Rachel launches straight to "The Surrey With The Fringe on Top." She does a strange choreography where she sings both parts, flipping her position when necessary.

 _Has it really got a team of snow white horses?  
One's like snow, the other's more like milk!_

Rachel's smiling enthusiastically, but Puck's pretty sure that technically, it's not country. It's more like Broadway, trying to be country.

 _Don't you wisht y'd go on forever?  
Don't you wisht y'd go on forever?_

No. Not really. Everyone claps politely when Rachel finishes. She's beaming proudly.

"That was an interesting choice," Mr. Schue frowns a little. "But Rachel, strictly speaking, that's not country music."

"Yes, but it's such a classic," Rachel gushes, still smiling, and there's apparently a switch in Schue's face that gets flipped at the word 'classic,' because suddenly he's returning her smile and clapping again.

"All right, let's finish things up. Kurt?"

Kurt traipses to the front of the room, a big blue cowboy hat in his hand and a smirk on his face. Puck _knows_ that look–Kurt's up to something.

"I briefly considered doing 'Crazy,' he says, putting the hat on his head, "but ultimately decided that this would be far more… entertaining."

When the music starts, Puck has to press his hand to his mouth. Kurt swings his hips a little then walks towards Mike before he starts singing. After the first few lines, he swings his attention to Finn, who's laughing hysterically already.

Then Kurt steps back and launches into the chorus.

 _But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts_

He pulls at his sleeves disparagingly.

 _She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers  
Dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find  
That what you're lookin' for has been here the whole time._

Some of the girls are singing along, and Kurt moves into some kind of country-looking dance as he finishes the chorus and starts the second verse.

 _Walkin the streets with you in your worn out jeans  
I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be  
Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself   
Hey isn't this easy?_

Kurt spins in place and tips his hat a little. Puck lets himself smile a little, because yeah, Kurt's completely adorable, and he's just _owning_ the song, so it's not like anyone's going to think it's weird that Puck's pleased.

Even if he a little more than just _pleased_.

Kurt holds his gaze for a moment during the last part of the song, too, sliding his gaze over the room casually.

 _I know your favorite songs and you tell me about your dreams_

During the final chorus, Kurt pulls Mercedes and Tina up with him, then Brittany and Rachel, and everyone's laughing good-naturedly. When the song finishes, everyone claps, and Kurt takes a bow with a flourish of his hat. "Thank you, thank you."

His face is flushed from the exertion, and there's a little bit of sweat running down his neck that Puck things really ought to be licked clean. He stares at Kurt while Schue's talking, unconsciously licking his lips, until Finn's elbow in his side jolts him back to reality. Everyone's leaving, then, and Puck plucks the hat off Kurt's head, jamming it down on his own.

"Little shit," he teases. "Nooo, I don't want to do Taylor Swift."

Kurt smirks. "You liked that?"

"You had everyone eating out of your hand."

"Mmm-hmm." Kurt's wearing a smug smile, leading them out the door. "I know," he gloats.

"So modest, too." Puck plunks the hat back on Kurt's head, tilting it sideways. "There, that's perfect."

"Puck!" Kurt protests, righting it. "It's already a fashion choice of dubious value."

"I don't know, I think you rocked it."

Kurt makes his typical pleased-smile, I-don't-really-know-how-to-take-a-compliment face, the one that Puck always wants to kiss off his face, and Puck curses that they're still in the parking lot.

"What time do you have to be there?"

"12:30."

"Drive-through, then?"

"Yeah."

While they're waiting in line at the drive-through, Puck leans over and pulls Kurt to him, kissing him softly. The car behind them honks after a few minutes, and Puck jumps, exchanging a grin with Kurt.

"You were pretty badass yourself," Kurt says after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm." Kurt grins. "Good choice. And I liked the slower tempo."

"Sometimes it sounds like a mariachi band."

Kurt nods, then accepts the food, handing the bag to Puck. "I know what you're talking about." Puck digs in the bag for Kurt's burger and passes it to him, setting the fries in one of the cupholders in the center console.

It takes most of the time remaining before 12:30 to finish eating. "If you want to, leave your guitar back there, and you can grab it tomorrow," Kurt offers just before Puck slides out of the car.

"Yeah, that'd be great." Puck smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Be good."

"I? Am always good."

Kurt laughs and waves as he pulls back into traffic, Puck slipping into the store.

The rest of Puck's day seems to slide downhill. He's late to practice, which means extra laps at the end of the practice.

 

Finn is just getting the rest of his gear stowed in the back of his truck when he sees Puck coming up from the field, his two backpacks slung over his shoulder. Finn shouts out “hey” and waves Puck over.

“Beiste made you run laps again?” Finn asks sympathetically.

“Yeah, it’s no big,” Puck shrugs, changing direction to head towards Finn.

“Listen to the tough guy,” Finn chuckles. “Remember when she made us all run 20 laps last August and half of us were puking on the side of the field?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t one of ‘em,” Puck smirks.

Finn just laughs. “I totally was. Good times, man. Good times.”

“And to think that these are the best years of our lives.”

“Looking forward to pining away for them, myself,” Finn says, then grins at Puck really widely. “So, I liked Kurt’s song today. You totally got serenaded,” he adds, singing the word “serenaded” a little bit.

Puck laughs. “Little shit totally pulled that one on me. ‘Oh, no, I’m doing this old song called ‘Crazy,’ why would I do that Taylor Swift song like you suggested.’ “

“Quiet a performance. The hat was a nice touch, though I don’t know where he found a cowboy hat in that particular color of blue.”

“Who can say?” Puck grins. “I don’t know where he gets most of the stuff he wears, because I certainly never see it out in a store.”

“Internet or whatever,” Finn says. “I dunno how he makes sure they all fit right, ‘cause the only time I ever ordered anything online, it was like three inches too short in the arms. Anyway, you want a ride?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Puck nods, and tosses his bags in the back.

They get in the truck and Finn starts it, cranking up the air and the radio before fastening his seat belt. He whips out of the parking lot at a little too fast of a speed.

“Dude, where’s the fire?”

“Sorry, man. Just got new tires on here and now she takes the turns better, so figured I’d get a little speed. Can’t do it with Kurt in the truck, because he shrieks like a little...” he pauses and quickly changes his verbal direction, “like a person who doesn’t like it when I drive fast,” he finishes, lamely.

“He’s probably thinking about how much the tires cost,” Puck snorts.

“True that. More than the truck, I’m pretty sure,” Finn replies, laughing. “So, things going ok with you guys? I mean, other than all the...groping and stuff I keep stumbling upon.”

Puck rolls his eyes a little at the last sentence. “Yeah, uh.” He shrugs.

Finn casts a slightly concerned look at Puck, “That doesn’t sound good. What’s up?”

Puck shrugs. “Things are fine on my end. I have no clue what your brother is or isn’t thinking.”

“You guys don’t talk about that kind of stuff?” Finn asks, sounding genuinely surprised. “I thought that maybe, since both of you are gay...”

“Seriously, Finn,” Puck laughs. “But, no, I dunno. I told Kurt where I was at the start.” He shifts, a little uncomfortable.

“He really likes you, you know,” Finn says. “I mean, we don’t like, talk about it all the time or anything, but he cares about you and, you know, the stuff that goes on in your life.”

“Yeah?” Puck stares out the window for a moment.

“Yeah,” Finn says, no uncertainty in his voice. “Definitely.”

“It’s just...” Puck runs his hand over his head. “In my head? This is it.”

“Seriously?” Finn asks. “Like, it it?”

“It it. Done. For good.”

Finn smiles, more to himself than at Puck. “That’s awesome, dude. Congratulations.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Well, what? I mean, he feels the same way about you, right?”

“No fucking clue.”

“Seriously? He hasn’t given you any sort of, I dunno, sign or something? ‘Cause I was picking up that he felt pretty strongly about,” Finn gestures oddly in Puck’s direction, as if to indicate Puck or something about Puck or who the hell knows what, “all of this.”

“I did kind of spring it on him out of the blue,” Puck defends Kurt. “I get that, I do. I just don’t know what he’s thinking _now_.”

“I think he’s had a little time to get used to the idea by now,” Finn says. “We barely see him any more, he’s with you so much! And when he is home, you’re kind of a...topic.”

“A topic? Do I even want to know?”

“Aw, man, no. Not like that kind of topic. I don’t know details and I don’t wanna know details! That’s my brother, dude.”

Puck just smirks for a minute.

“Uncool, Puckerman. Don’t try to rile me up like that, man. I gotta look out for him and you’re the, the, the ne’er-do-well. You can’t be telling me all kinds of stuff or I’ll have to start doing some sort of defending his honor thing, right?” Finn grins, taking the sting off the words. He obviously knows he’s being messed with and is messing right back.

Puck chuckles. “Sure, dude. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“It’s all boobs and football up here, man,” Finn says, tapping himself on the temple. “I sleep just fine.”

“You’re a bad Hooters ad.”

“I take that as a compliment. I happen to like their wings.”

“Right.” Puck snorts in disbelief. “The wings.”

 

Puck feels unsettled after his conversation with Finn, and when he gets home, his mom and Hannah are already in the kitchen, waiting for him to come help fix that night's dinner: hamburgers, potato salad, and vegetarian baked beans.

Puck can use a George Foreman, though, and he's never tried to use it to dry anything. Or to iron any clothes. So he's in charge of the hamburgers while his mom and sister finish everything else. His mom tries to make conversation but Puck's mostly monosyllabic throughout dinner and cleaning up.

"Mom, I'm beat," he finally interrupts her. "I'm gonna go shower and do my homework and fall into bed."

"Okay, Noah," she says, a little worry in her voice.

Puck does exactly that, finishing a worksheet for English and a paragraph for history before crawling into bed. He picks up the phone and stares at it for a long minute. His conversation with Finn brought back all of the heaviness he was feeling Saturday night, and he has a lot he could say. Both wants and doesn't want to say.

 _I miss you. I want you here. What's going on behind those blue eyes of yours? I_ love _you._

Puck frowns at the phone, finally tapping on the Messages icon.

 _Missed you this afternoon. See you in the morning. xx_

Puck nearly asleep before the phone chimes with Kurt's response.

 _I missed you, too. Dinner tomorrow, pls? xx_

Puck lets a smile creep over his face. _Perfect._

 

It’s Kurt’s turn to wash the dishes, and he’s almost finished putting things away when he frowns at the platter still on the counter. “Finn!” he calls into the living room. “Help.”

Finn snorts a little laugh. “What? You need me to tall something up for you?”

“Yes,” Kurt admits, defeated.

Finn takes the platter and puts it away on the top shelf. “It’s ok, Kurt,” Finn says. “I’ll always be your _little_ brother, right?”

“Yes,” Kurt replies sweetly. “Indeed you will.”

“I’m sure that what you lack in height, you make up in, uh,” Finn fumbles his words. “I dunno. Fashion or something. Anyway, your hair is tall, and that’s not nothing.”

“I’m not short,” Kurt protests. “You’re just _extremely_ tall.”

“I dunno, man, you look pretty short to me from waaaaay up here.”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Apart from the freakishly tall.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure some people are into Munchkins.”

“Munchkins!” Kurt screeches.

“Well, doesn’t seem to bug Puck, so I guess you’d better not get too pissed at me,” Finn says, laughing.

Kurt sniffs. “In case you haven’t noticed, Puck and I are nearly the same height.”

“Yeah, but he’s still about two of you across.”

Kurt rolls his eyes but doesn’t attempt to contradict Finn’s statement.

“So,” Finn says, with the lamest damn segue ever.

“So?” Kurt looks at Finn curiously.

“Speaking of Puck,” Finn says.

“Yess?”

“Are you trying to give him a complex or what?”

“What?” Kurt blinks, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“I mean, I figured he had to know how you felt about him, but...” Finn stops himself, shakes his head. “I guess I thought gay guys talked to each other more than straight dudes do. About, you know, feelings and stuff.”

“Wait, what?” Kurt shakes his own head a couple of times. “I am missing something. And I think you and I have previously established that boys are stupid. Straight or gay.”

“He doesn’t seem to think that you, you know,” Finn says. “Feel about him. Like he feels about you. I tried to tell him that was bullshit, but I didn’t want to make him upset by telling him how I figured it out.”

Kurt opens his mouth, closes it, then repeats the sequence before sitting down at the kitchen table. “I am still missing something here.”

“Why don’t you just tell him you love him like he loves you? Wouldn’t that be, like, _easier_? I mean, I know boys are stupid, but couldn’t you try to, um, not be?” Finn, rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “It’s just that he seems to think maybe you don’t, but I’m pretty sure you do.”

Kurt gapes at Finn, not even blinking for a long moment. “I...” He closes his mouth and shuts his eyes for a moment.

“Look, dude,” Finn says, putting his hand on Kurt’s shoulder in a way obviously meant to be comforting. “I know love is a heavy thing to tell somebody you feel, but if you feel it, don’t you kind of owe it to yourself to be honest about it? Don’t you deserve that?”

Kurt’s still gaping at Finn. He swallows finally, and his voice is quiet when he answers. “I... I. I love him?”

Finn looks surprised. “Don’t tell me I figured something else out before you did, ‘cause that’s gonna really mess with my head. I might starting thinking I’m the smart one around here.”

Kurt blinks at him. “I don’t know.” He puts his head in his hands. “Damn.”

“You know, he’s my best friend, even with all the shit that’s gone down between us, and seeing him so wrecked like he was the other day, that hurt. I didn’t break down about it, though, just like how I didn’t break down when you started going to Dalton, even though it sucked. You know why not?”

Kurt shakes his head, clearly waiting for Finn to finish his thought.

“Because I love you guys, but I’m not _in love_ with you guys,” Finn explains. “Hurting like you did over him, that’s not just a friend thing or a brother thing. That’s love, like real love. Someone hurts the person you love, you’ll tear yourself apart trying to fix it for them. You don’t do that for someone you just like hanging out with.”

Kurt looks down at the table, tracing patterns with his fingers. There’s low rumble in his chest when he thinks about the week before that he tries to keep pushed down.

“But look,” Finn says, trying to backtrack. “I’m not gonna tell you how you feel. I’m just trying to tell you what I think I see, ok?”

Kurt nods, still not removing his gaze from the table surface.

“Kurt? Dude? You ok?” Finn sounds worried and kind of pats Kurt on the shoulder a little. “Seriously, I probably have no idea what I’m talking about. Tell me I’m full of shit and I’ll never bring it up again, just...don’t try to talk yourself out of it if it turns out I’m right, ok?”

“I’m fine,” Kurt says softly. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, dubiously. “I’m ok, you’re ok? Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Kurt repeats, forcing a little more volume into his voice. “It’s okay, Finn.”

“Ok, then,” Finn answers, not sounding remotely reassured. “I’ll just, um, get out of your hair. Sorry if I said anything I shouldn’t have. Which I obviously did. So, um, I’ll just...” he takes his hand off Kurt’s shoulder and gestures to the doorway, indicating he’d like to leave.

Kurt nods. “Um. Thanks.” He glances up and smiles shakily. “I think.”

“Any time, big brother.” Finn says, with a wink.

 

When Puck steps through the door into the choir room at the beginning of fourth period, he finds himself grabbed by Tina almost immediately. "C'mon," she says with a grin. "Dance with us."

"Uh, okay?" Puck drops his bag, looking around. Finn and Artie are not dancing, and Quinn's watching, affecting an expression of boredom. Everyone else is jumbled at the front of the room, watching Mike and Brittany. Then Mike spins Brittany away and grabs Sam, Brittany pulling Santana into a fast step.

"This is so gay," Santana says with a smirk.

"That's the idea," Tina calls back, as she grabs Mercedes. Puck grins and grabs Kurt, and they all spend the next ten minutes alternately crashing into each other and actually trying to learn the steps as Mike demonstrates them. After a while, they convince Finn and Artie to try to put something together, and they manage to cobble out a sequence that looks moderately like dancing.

Considering that it's Finn and a dude in a wheelchair, Puck thinks, that's pretty impressive. Puck's not complaining, though, because he's spending part of the day not only with Kurt, but with his hands on Kurt, and that's not going to happen all that often.

Everyone's so busy laughing at themselves and, let's be honest, at Finn, that they don't really notice that Puck and Kurt are actually doing pretty well. Puck figures it's that they're comfortable together, plus Kurt's a good dancer. When Mike starts introducing another step, though, Kurt grins at Puck and switches their hand positions.

"Kurt…"

"You can do it, c'mon," Kurt nods. Puck stumbles over his feet, and then nearly throws Kurt across the room, but by the time the bell rings, Kurt's grinning widely, and Puck thinks maybe he manage this.

"You know you lead just fine."

"Yeah, but the following partner has more fun," Kurt says with a shrug, sliding a water bottle out of his bag and taking a long drink before offering it to Puck. "Like you wouldn't rather lead and let me do the twirling."

"Eh." Puck shrugs and takes a drink. "I do get dizzy."

"See?" Kurt smiles brightly. "I'll come pick you up after practice, 'kay?"

"Yeah. You working?"

"Yes." Kurt looks around and squeezes Puck's hand once. "See you later."

"You knew about that already," Finn accuses as they walk towards the cafeteria.

"Yeah, and?"

"You could've warned me."

"Kurt could've warned you, too," Puck points out.

Finn frowns. "Hey, yeah, he could've. Dammit."

"But, no offense, dude, it's not like it would've made a huge difference."

Finn's frown gets deeper. "Hey!"

Puck just looks at him.

"Okay, okay, you're right," Finn concedes. "You two were doing pretty well, though."

"Yeah, it's one of those gay things," Puck says, completely dead-pan. "We get rainbow stickers and dance lessons when we sign up."

"Oh, shut up," Finn rolls his eyes.

Puck just smirks and heads for the lunch line as Rachel waylays Finn, leading him away.

Puck takes his time in the shower once Beiste releases them from football practice, so there are only a few guys still around when he emerges into the locker room. Mike and a couple of juniors wave as they leave.

"So, what do you think of this ballroom thing?" Sam asks he ties his shoes.

Finn just groans, and Puck chuckles. "Eh, it's not so bad," Puck offers, pulling on his jeans. "It's going to take a lot of practice, but at least it's something different. No offense to Journey," he says an aside to Finn.

"Yeah, I guess," Sam shrugs. He cuts his eyes at Finn for a moment, before continuing. "I think Mike's planning on assigning our opposite-sex partners, too."

"Well, _some_ of us can't lead," Puck says, smirking at Finn, and Sam laughs.

"I'm out of here, dudes. Later."

"Later."

Puck finishes getting dressed and walks out with Finn. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"The weird look Sam gave you."

"Oh. I dunno." Finn shrugs. "See you later." Finn heads off towards his truck, where Rachel's standing.

"See you." Puck alters his own course, watching Finn and Rachel drive off out the corner of his eye, and finally reaches Kurt.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself." Kurt reaches across the middle of the car and grabs Puck's hand.

Puck smiles and squeezes Kurt's hand. "Let's get out of this place."

"If it's the last thing we ever do?"

"Even then."

Kurt grins and pulls out of the parking lot. "Finn's going to Rachel's, as I'm sure you gathered. There's leftover chili at my house, though."

"Healthy chicken crap or real chili?"

"Real chili," Kurt confirms.

"Oh, good."

Kurt warms up two bowls of chili, and they sit in the kitchen across from each other, their bare feet playing. Puck picks up their empty bowls and runs water in them. "What'cha wanna do now?"

"I'm sure we can think of something."

"Oh, I'm sure," Puck grins and heads into the living room with Kurt behind him. He sits down on the couch and pulls Kurt half into his lap. "So that dancing stuff is actually kind of hot."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Puck runs a hand through Kurt's hair and then down his neck. "You get all pink." He kisses Kurt's ear gently. "Though, yesterday, you had a little bit of sweat running down your neck." He plays with the hair on Kurt's neck. "I wanted to lick it off."

Kurt leans into Puck's touch. "Yeah?" He smiles smugly. "And after that?"

"I suppose I would have to check to make sure you didn't need anything else cleaned up," Puck replies, and slides his other hand underneath Kurt's shirt. "Like your back." He nudges the cloth upward, and Kurt raises his arms after a moment, letting Puck pull off his shirt. Puck takes a moment to trail his fingers over the exposed skin, then bends over, flicking his tongue over Kurt's nipples lightly. Then he moves his mouth to the top of Kurt's arm, sucking gently.

"That's… not my back," Kurt points out.

"Point," Puck says lazily, pulling back and running both hands over Kurt's back. "I'm just being thorough."

"Thoroughness is a virtue," Kurt agrees, and Puck feels Kurt's hands skimming underneath his t-shirt.

"It'd be remiss of me not to, ah, _investigate_ you thoroughly," Puck says, smirking, and pulls Kurt close, thrusting his tongue insistently into Kurt's mouth. Kurt stills for a split second, surprised, but then he's moving on Puck's lap, his tongue darting inside Puck's mouth and running along Puck's teeth. Puck feels himself moan into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt's hands slide farther up Puck's chest, fingertips brushing against both nipples. Kurt pulls back and motions for Puck to remove his shirt, which he does quickly. He wraps both arms around Kurt, and Kurt slides his arms around Puck's neck and chest, crushing them together. It's almost awkward, but a moment later, Kurt's tugging them to the side, and they're lying on the couch, half on top of each other.

Puck takes his upper leg and wraps it around Kurt's, hooking them together. He has the absent thought that now, if one of them falls, they'll both fall. It's not that far of a drop off the couch, anyway. Kurt responds to the motion by pressing closer to Puck, and Puck hisses at the increased contact.

"Too many clothes still," he grunts out after another long kiss, and Kurt nods frantically in agreement. They spring apart for a moment, each pulling down their own jeans, and then Puck puts his hands on the waistband of Kurt's underwear. He's wearing what looks like really short boxer briefs, but they're hot pink with black trim, outlining Kurt's erection, and Puck takes a minute to stare before hooking a finger under the waistband and slowly sliding them down. Kurt's cock bounces as it's freed, his balls hanging heavy under it. Puck pauses in his motion to press his palm against Kurt, then take his balls into his hand for a moment. He slides the underwear down to Kurt's calves, then, and lets it drop, Kurt stepping out almost primly.

Kurt's staring at him, now, and Puck feels underdressed in his stripy boxer briefs. Not because it's all he's wearing, but they seem kind of plain compared to Kurt's own underwear. Kurt doesn't say a word, though, just slowly runs his fingers along the waistband, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips.

Kurt moves surprisingly fast, then, pushing Puck's underwear down with one hand and pushing Puck back onto the couch with the other, lowering himself to his knees. Before Puck can really process what it all means, Kurt's mouth has engulfed the tip of his cock, and his thought process is reduced to _fuck yes_.

Kurt approaches giving head like a careful connoisseur, of wine or gourmet food or something, Puck thinks. His tongue swirls around the tip, then disappears for a moment, as if he's carefully tasting and judging. Puck must've passed, though, because then Kurt's tongue is back, running slowly down and then back up. Kurt slides a hand under Puck's balls, handling them gently, and Puck fights the urge to move so that Kurt's stray finger would be pressing against him. Kurt moves up and down carefully, eyes shut, and Puck cards his fingers through Kurt's hair.

Despite Kurt's outward fussing, he hasn't complained to Puck–yet, anyway–about his post-messing around hair, and Puck likes messing it up. Kurt goes a little farther down, and Puck holds his hips rigid in order to not thrust into Kurt's mouth.

Kurt moves his other hand to Puck's side, though, and trails it down, cupping one side of Puck's hips and pressing them forward. Kurt's holding himself still, and Puck's eyes widen. He lets his hips jerk forward just a little, experimentally. Kurt's head bobs up and down once, nodding, and then is still again, his hand still on Puck's balls.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Puck exhales, letting himself thrust shallowly into Kurt's mouth. He throws his free hand out to grab at the side of the couch. Kurt _hums_ after a moment longer, his mouth and tongue vibrating around Puck, and Puck lets out a long moan.

He can feel himself already getting close; it's been days since their stolen moment before glee club, and Puck's been strangely reluctant to jerk off in the past few weeks. His body is tight and so close to completion. He can feel his thrusts speed up and accidentally go further into Kurt's mouth, but Kurt's hand just stays rest lightly on his hips, and Puck looks down, focusing on the contrast of Kurt's pale hand against his own darker skin.

He bites down on his lip and arches his back, head hitting the back of the couch as he thrusts upwards and holds himself there, emptying himself into Kurt's mouth as Kurt moves his head again, mouth working up and down carefully, claiming each drop of Puck. Puck sags into the couch, spent, and watches Kurt slowly rise from the floor and climb up onto the couch, straddling Puck and kissing him deeply. Puck feel Kurt's still-hard erection sandwiched between them, and he reaches for it without breaking their kiss.

Puck wraps his hand around Kurt, his thumb running across the slit and collecting the fluid already escaping, smearing it across the tip and then down the sides. He moves his hand a little fast, then pulls his mouth away from Kurt, focusing instead on Kurt's chest just in front of him. He nips at one nipple, then licks it before moving to the side slightly, kissing and sucking at Kurt's chest, dampening the hair under his tongue. He feels Kurt thrust into his hand and tightens it in response.

Puck releases Kurt's chest from his mouth with a loud smack, and brings his free hand up to the back of Kurt's head, turning his attention back to Kurt's mouth. He moves his hand faster over Kurt's erection, and then he senses Kurt trembling before he shudders and then falls over the edge, coming hard into Puck's hand. Kurt slumps against Puck, head resting on Puck's shoulder.

"Mmmm," he hums after a few moments, and Puck moves his head, kissing Kurt's cheek. Slowly, Puck pulls his hand up to his mouth and cleans it off, then wraps both arms around Kurt, letting his eyes close.

Kurt shivers after a moment, and Puck reaches blindly behind him for the throw that's usually on the back of the couch. When he finds it, he shakes it over both of them, and Kurt presses even more tightly to him. Puck feels Kurt's lips curve against his neck. "Thanks," Kurt whispers.

They stay cuddled together on the couch for awhile. Eventually, Puck kisses Kurt's forehead and cheek gently and repeatedly. After a few minutes, Kurt tilts his face towards Puck and smiles. He's practically beaming, really, and Puck can't help but return the smile, holding Kurt's gaze. Finally Kurt blinks and glances at the clock. "Ohh," he groans. "Finn's going to be home soon. Unless Rachel lets him touch her boobs or whatever he was saying at breakfast."

Puck snorts. "In other words, Finn's going to be home soon, period."

"Probably," Kurt agrees, stretching. "Which means we probably should get dressed."

"Oh?" Kurt's climbing off Puck, and Puck waits until Kurt's back is turned to swipe Kurt's shirt off the floor and stuff it behind his back. "You don't think Finn wants to walk in on this? After all we're not… how did he put it? Grindy?"

Kurt blushes but giggles. "I think he'd think this was worse. Bad enough for him that one of us is his brother and the other is his best friend, but that it's both? We're lucky we haven't scarred him yet."

Puck pulls on his own shirt and underwear, still hiding Kurt's shirt, and reaches for his jeans as Kurt pulls his jeans back on. "We probably will, though," Puck offers, a little cautiously, "inevitability and all that."

"Hmm." Kurt frowns as he searches the floor for his shirt. "I suppose so. Where'd…?"

"Yeah, I decided you don't get that back right now," Puck smirks.

"Puck!"

He shrugs. "What?"

Kurt huffs, rolling his eyes, but walks back to the kitchen without his shirt, and Puck grins. "Want a drink?" Kurt offers.

"Sure."

Kurt digs in the refrigerator for a minute. "Juice, pop, milk, water?"

"What kinda juice you got?"

"Grapefruit, orange, cranberry-strawberry, and apple, apparently."

"Apple? Seriously?"

"I think Carole bought it in case Hannah wanted it on Saturday."

"Orange juice is good."

"Okay." Kurt pulls out the orange juice and pours a glass for each of them, handing one to Puck before replacing the carton in the fridge. Puck sits down in the closest chair and pulls Kurt into his lap once Kurt's got a good hold on his own cup. He buries his face in Kurt's neck and takes a deep breath, smiling as Kurt wriggles.

"Tickles?"

"A little."

"I like the way you smell," Puck confesses. "Sweet and minty and sweaty and… I don't know. Kurt-like."

"Kurt-like, hmm?" Puck can practically feel Kurt preening just a bit.

"Yeah." Puck takes another breath, nose still pressed against Kurt's neck.

“Oh holy hell! Sorry! Sorry you guys! I’ll just... sorry you guys!”

Puck jumps a little. “Uh. Hey, Finn.”

Finn’s face is bright red and he’s backing out of the kitchen. “Didn’t mean to interrupt! I’ll just come back later!”

Kurt buries his face in Puck’s shoulder, shaking, and Puck’s pretty sure Kurt’s laughing. Puck pulls his face up in time to see Finn stepping back into the hall. “S’okay, dude.”

"Did we break my brother?" Kurt asks after a minute, Finn's footsteps disappearing up the stairs.

"Not sure," Puck finally settles on. "Pretty sure he's not having as much fun with Rachel as we are together, though."

"At the risk of sounding ridiculous–duh, Puck. _Duh_."

Puck laughs. "Good point." He pulls Kurt into another kiss, then finishes his orange juice.

"As much as I hate to say it, you should probably take me home."

"True." Kurt sighs and kisses Puck's forehead, right under his mohawk. "Homework, etc."

"Yeah."

Kurt lays his head back on Puck's shoulder. "Do you work tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yeah. No more weekday afternoons working after this, though, my manager had to set the schedule for September all the same."

Kurt nods. "So I should leave my calendar free on Friday afternoon?"

"Please." Puck tightens his arms around Kurt. "And Saturday. Let's get out of Lima again. Maybe Dayton or something. I did some Googling." He stops for a second.

"Yeah?"

"There's, like, a youth center. A gay one, I mean. Where you can just… drop in and hang out. I dunno. I just thought…"

"It sounds good," Kurt interrupts him. "Like something… something we need."

"Yeah. Yeah, exactly," Puck nods, and he finally, reluctantly releases Kurt, who stands and puts out one hand for his shirt. Puck smirks and hands it over, frowning just a little as Kurt pulls it on.

"Come on," Kurt says with a sigh, holding out his hand again. "Our homework, sadly, isn't going to do itself."

Wednesday passes without incident, and Puck is grateful. School, physics homework, work, football practice, and studying make him tired enough without any additional hijinks. He does wish he could have seen Kurt for longer than the few moments they shared in Kurt's car, but he's pretty sure he couldn't have worked anything else into his day, period.


	13. Dancing. Dirty Dancing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dancing, assemblies, and _dirty_ dancing.

Thursday morning's physics lab involves more playing with Hot Wheels. Yeah, the teacher tries to tell them it's something about motion and Newton, but Puck knows: it's an excuse to play with Hot Wheels. Even the teacher is far too enthused for it to be anything else.

When Puck walks into the choir room at the beginning of fourth period, Kurt, Tina, Mercedes, and Rachel are already there, heads bent in a tight cluster, the girls whispering frantically. Kurt looks bemused, then rolls his eyes as the girls spot Puck and fall silent.

"What's up?" Puck asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing!" the three girls all exclaim, and Tina bounds up first. "Let's practice dancing!" She grabs Puck's hands and starts forcing him to dance. Kurt mouths 'Later' at him over the girls' heads.

Mike's in the room within minutes, organizing them into opposite-sex couples. "Okay. Brittany, help Finn. Please." Brittany smiles brightly and walks over to Finn. "Tina, good, stick with Puck. Quinn, you're with me. Kurt, Santana?" Kurt nods and walks over to wear Santana is standing. "Rachel, take Sam, and Mercedes, Artie. Okay. Mercedes, you should sing the first verse as a solo." Mercedes just nods.

"All right. Spread out, everyone." Puck pulls Tina to one side, and they start dancing slowly as Mercedes sings, standing next to Artie.

"You're pretty good at this," Tina comments after the first five minutes or so. "Mike wasn't sure how well you could lead."

Puck shrugs. "I wasn't sure either." He grins, and Tina laughs. They spend the next few minutes concentrating more on how everyone else is doing. Brittany has an exasperated look on her face, as Finn apologizes for stepping on her feet. Something tells Puck that it isn't the first time. Sam's eyes are glazed over, but Mike and Quinn are doing a good job, and Kurt's smirking at Santana.

"This is the part where the boys lead, Santana," Puck hears Kurt explaining mock-patiently. "You get to take the lead later."

"Yeah, well," Santana scowls before smiling slightly. "At least it's not precisely half and half. We spend more time in the same-sex couples."

"Oh?" Kurt spins Santana out and then back. "I didn't count out the seconds. Good to know, though, I can wash off the icky girl germs quicker." He's still smirking, and Santana laughs.

"I'll bring that hand gel stuff on stage, how about that?"

"Perfect," Kurt agrees, and it's all Puck can do not to lose it laughing.

Halfway through the period, Mike announces that it's time to switch to their same-sex pairings, and they all change with various amounts of relief and grumbling. Finn sinks down into a chair near Artie, eyes wide, clearly relieved, and Brittany grabs Santana with the same relief showing in her face. Puck hands Tina to Quinn with a little bow, then steps over to Kurt.

"You want to try leading again?" Kurt offers, taking a drink of water.

"I guess." He grabs the water bottle out of Kurt's hand and takes a long drink. "Thanks," he says with a smirk, handing it back.

Kurt rolls his eyes. "You could ask."

"Just saving us both time."

Puck hears Rachel behind him, muttering something about germs, and his smirk grows wider, meeting Kurt's eyes. Kurt bites his lip and his cheeks grow a little pinker.

"Okay, let's go," Mike calls from where he's standing next to Sam, and Puck steps closer to Kurt, taking the position to lead.

"Can we use a different song for awhile?" Rachel asks. "Anything with a 4/4 beat will work for practice, won't it? We're not doing the actual choreography yet."

"Yeah, all right," Mike concedes, and hits shuffle on the iPod connected to the stereo. Puck's not sure whose it is. Mike finally settles on a song and walks back to Sam. Puck recognizes the first strains and meets Kurt's eyes with a grin.

" _We will never be the same_ ," Puck sings softly, and Kurt returns the grin before letting Puck spin him out.

"Remember, guys, I know it's not easy, but we want a kind of Dirty Dancing vibe. A little sexy."

"I've never seen it," Sam and Finn voice at the same time.

"You sang the main song from it last year!" Rachel protests, looking at Sam, who just shrugs sheepishly.

"Let's all get together and watch it tomorrow night!" Mercedes suggests.

"Sure! We can do it at my house," Mike agrees.

Everyone quickly agrees, and Puck rolls his eyes at Kurt. "We have annoying friends," he whispers after a moment.

"Yes, why do we all have to like each other's company so much?" Kurt replies with a giggle.

"Right!"

"We should just give it up, football games start in another week anyway."

"Oh, yeah, true." Puck frowns a little. "Oh, well. Saturday."

"Saturday," Kurt nods.

Just before the bell rings, Mike stops them all. "Okay. Artie, Finn… keep working." He winces, and Artie nods. "Sam, you and I should keep working, and Mercedes and Rachel, too. Tina?"

"I think we're pretty good," she says with a smile at Quinn. "Quinn's years of cheerleading are coming in handy."

Mike nods. "Okay. Brittany, Santana, Kurt, Puck… awesome." He grins, and Puck can't help but feel a little smug. The four of them exchange pleased nods. When Puck turns to pick up his bag, though, he catches Finn smirking at him. Puck just shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Kurt disappears after that, even though Puck thought he was staying to eat lunch before going to work. He gets a text as he's headed back to the choir room, though.

 _Ugh. Got captured by Figgins + Karofsky re: PFLAG. Mtgs start nxt wk. Going to try to convince ND to come. Help!_

Puck frowns for a second, then remembers that helping start a PFLAG chapter was part of the conditions for Kurt coming back to McKinley, Karofsky being rehabilitated, and all that. Yeah, it's probably a good idea, but looking at it in the light of September, Puck wonders how crazy it is to expect two seniors, who don't have a happy history at all, to get it up and running.

 _Tell Finn too. We'll convince them it's their idea to come. ;)_

 _Thanks. See you this afternoon. xx_

 _C u xx_

Puck decides it's time to tackle some of the harder stuff, finally, because he's cruising through the first chapters of the music theory syllabus. Most of the notation is stuff he's known for years, and the terminology is just a matter of remembering the fancy names. The score analysis? That's going to take time to even begin to figure out.

Ms. Pillsbury stops by at some point in the afternoon, and Puck shows her what he's working on before she leaves. At five minutes before the bell, Kurt walks in, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the piano bench beside Puck.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Indeed." Kurt smirks and leans over, kissing Puck quickly. "Dinner at my house?"

"Sure."

"We can scar Finn more."

"Be nice to your brother."

"Isn't that against the rules of having a sibling? I don't know, I'm still learning." Kurt affects an expression of innocence before smirking and jumping up. "So I spent most of my afternoon copying fliers instead of working," he frowns, pulling a stack of paper out of his bag. He sighs. "I don't know if this is going to work. Or, honestly, if I care so much as I would have a year ago."

"Yeah." Puck nods. "I get it." Because he does. They're leaving. It's great to have in place for the kids who are still counting years, not weeks and days, but for them, the countdown is a lot shorter, and something like PFLAG is a lot less necessary.

"But," Kurt continues. "I suppose I'll give it a solid effort." He puts the fliers in a stack on top of the piano and nods to Brad as he walks in. Puck vacates the bench and nods as well.

"Yeah, we'll convince everyone else to come along, at least for a week or two."

"A third of the club fits the last few letters, and the rest of them, by default, fit the 'F'," Kurt points out with a smirk.

"True." The bell rings, then, and the rest of the club filters in. Kurt turns to talk to Mr. Schue, who nods seeming to agree with whatever Kurt's requesting. Puck slides into a seat in the back and watches everyone filter in.

Schue claps his hands together and everyone mostly quiets down. "Kurt has a brief announcement, before we get started, and I have some exciting news as well!"

Kurt smiles, tight-lipped. "Well. Last year, part of Karofsky's apology was helping to start a PFLAG chapter here at McKinley. Which, surprisingly, Figgins remembered." He pauses while there are a few chuckles. "So, the first and third Tuesdays of each month, during lunch, you too can witness Kurt Hummel and David Karofsky attempt to run a meeting of PFLAG together. Aside from that, it would be nice to see a decent number of attendees."

Puck catches Finn's glance out of the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, we'll all show," Puck speaks up, glancing around the room.

"Yeah, the more of us that are there, the more uh, people who really need the support will feel okay going, right?" Finn chimes in. "Plus I can get my mom to make us some snacks, I bet."

Kurt smiles gratefully at Finn and then Puck as the others nod and commit to coming. "Great," he says, relieved. "Please, take one or more of these fliers I spent half the afternoon copying." With that, he sits down, and they all fall silent, waiting for Mr. Schue's 'exciting news.'

"I assume most of you heard the news about the mandatory assembly last period tomorrow," Schue begins, and Puck stifles the groan that threatens. Not good. "Principal Figgins has asked that we prepare two songs, to open and close it!"

"I think Puck, Artie, and I should reprise our stellar prom performance," Sam offers. "After all, tomorrow is…"

"Friday, Friday!" everyone choruses.

Schue looks chagrined, but everyone quickly agrees that it's the perfect choice for opening the assembly, except everyone can join in.

"What about the end of the assembly, then?" Schue finally admits defeat on the issue of "Friday."

"I think we should do 'Loser Like Me,'" Rachel suggests, and Finn's nodding along with her. It's actually a good idea, and even Schue approves. Kurt turns towards Puck as Schue asks who wants to present their song first, lips pursed. "Help?" he whispers.

Puck frowns for a moment, then nods. "Ohh, yeah. Yeah. No problem."

Quinn volunteers to go first, doing a surprisingly good rendition of what she says is a Dixie Chicks song called "Wide Open Spaces." Mercedes follows her, taking a cue from Rachel apparently in doing a song that isn't even country. Mercedes nails her cover of "Georgia on My Mind," but Schue frowns.

"Mercedes, that was a great performance, but you know that is not, strictly speaking, a country song."

"Neither is no _Oklahoma_ ," Mercedes points out, challenging, and Schue concedes with a shrug.

"Who wants to go next?"

Brittany stands up. "This is from the movie _Practical Magic_ ," she says with a grin before starting to sing. Puck nods to himself. "This Kiss," then. Brittany nails the song with a sweet smile, garnering applause from all of them.

Sam stands after she's finished, picking up his guitar. "I'm gonna do 'She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy,'" he says, flashing a grin at their laughter. By the time he reaches the chorus, they're all clapping in rhythm, grinning with him.

"Those were great performances, guys!" Schue's beaming. He checks the clock. "Since we'll need to run through our songs for the assembly tomorrow, can I get one more performance today?"

"We'll go," Tina offers, pulling Mike to his feet, and they launch into "Devil Went Down to Georgia." Mike takes the speaking parts, and Tina sings, both doing a line dance as they perform.

Once they finish, everyone's laughing and chattering as they head for the door. Puck pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to his mom, letting her know he's having dinner at Kurt's, and then collects his stuff, since he'd left his books off to one side. Kurt's standing near the door, talking to Tina, and he shakes his head, seemingly exasperated but still smiling. "I'll think about it, Tina," he finally says, and she grins and slips away.

"How long until dinner?"

"An hour or so. I need to go by the store, though, if you don't mind."

"Sure."

The store is an exercise in walking with his hands in his pockets. Apparently the Hudmel house is out of bread and lettuce, in addition to salad dressing. "It's how we keep Finn full," Kurt explains, not really joking. "Sandwiches in between meals and lots of salad at the beginning of the meal." Kurt rolls his eyes. "We go through four loaves a bread a week. A week!"

Puck laughs. "How many of those are Finn?"

"Two."

"And… how many are you?"

"One," Kurt admits with a shrug. He pauses in front of the bread and throws an extra loaf in the basket.

He steers the cart past the frozen pizza and throws three in. "There, that should do it. Carole'll come get more on the weekend."

 

Puck squeezes between Finn and Kurt at the kitchen table at dinner, Carole smiling broadly at him and Burt nodding in a reasonably friendly way. It only takes about twenty minutes to polish off all the food, and Finn looks up at his mom hopefully. "Dessert?"

"Ice cream in the fridge," Carole laughs. "You boys can serve yourself. Kurt, I found some of your blackberry flavor."

Kurt's eyes light up. "Good, because my last carton disappeared unnaturally quickly." He narrows his eyes at Finn.

"Hey, it wasn't me." Finn points at Puck, who mock-glares.

"Oh, sure, ship me up the river!"

"Puck!" Kurt cries, outrage on his face. "You ate my ice cream?"

"I'll make it up to you," Puck offers, hands up.

"Yes, you will," Kurt sniffs, stalking to the freezer. "Ooh, Cherry Garcia, Finn." He tosses a container to Finn, who catches it before pulling out three spoons. "Puck, Half-baked, Phish Food, or… nevermind, you'll want this." He pulls his head out of the freezer, grinning, and tosses Puck a container.

"Brownie batter! Sweet." Puck digs in as soon as Finn hands him a spoon. He turns to Carole and nods. "Thanks, Mrs. H."

She just smiles and nods, "Enjoy, boys."

"So," Kurt pauses, spoon in his container. "You two have to help me."

"Help with what?"

"Yeah, we can do that."

"Loser Like Me, Finn," Kurt says patiently, taking another bite. "It was during my brief and unfortunate foray into a required wardrobe of pleated trousers and polyester blazers."

Puck laughs, and Finn nods. "Ohh, right. Yeah. Um, I'm not the best one to teach you the dance routine."

"Go get your track of the music, Finn," Puck directs. "We can use that and I can show him the steps."

"Good idea." Finn trots out of the kitchen and Puck lunges forward, pulling Kurt to him.

"Oof!" Kurt grins as Puck kisses him. "Do I get rewarded for getting parts of the song right?"

"Ooh, good idea." Puck smirks and kisses Kurt again.

"Okay, got it," Finn announces. "We should go in the back yard." He holds up his speakers and iPod.

They spend about 45 minutes trying to teach Kurt the choreography and lyrics both, with Finn rolling his eyes periodically when Puck stops to kiss Kurt.

"I hate to suggest it," Finn says finally, "but I think we need at least one more person here."

"Yeah, okay," Puck nods. "Go ahead and call her."

Finn pulls out his phone and dials. "Hey, Rach. Yeah, fine. Listen, Puck and I were trying to get Kurt up to speed on Loser Like Me, but… Yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay. Bye." Finn slides his phone back into his pocket. "Okay, she'll be here in about ten minutes."

"Okay," Puck replies, sitting down in the nearest chair and pulling Kurt with him. "Ten minutes." He turns Kurt's face towards him and kisses him softly. Kurt's tongue darts out across Puck's lips and he parts them obligingly. Puck slides his tongue into Kurt's mouth, forcing Kurt's lips further apart, and brings his hand up to the back of Kurt's head.

Puck vaguely registers the sound of Finn going back inside as Kurt slides his arms around Puck's neck and runs his hand over Puck's head. After that, Puck decides not to worry about anything else until Finn lets them know that Rachel is there, which happens too quickly in Puck's opinion.

"GUYS! RACHEL'S HERE!" rings out, and Puck pulls back, running his tongue over his lips, while Kurt springs up and takes a deep breath.

A minute later, Finn leads Rachel outside. "Hey, boys," she says with a smile. "All right, let's run through this."

They spend another hour going through the steps and the lyrics before Rachel's satisfied. Finn gives her a chaste kiss before she leaves and Puck can't help raising his eyebrows a little.

"Poor Finn," Kurt whispers, noticing Puck's expression, and Puck presses his lips together, fighting back laughter.

"We're not very nice," Puck finally says.

"Maybe nice is overrated," Kurt suggests with a shrug. "Come on, I'll take you home. Oh." Kurt stops still. "No one ever decided what we were all wearing tomorrow."

"Umm. No." Puck shrugs. "That's more your department."

Kurt pulls out his phone and preps a mass text. "Red and/or white on top, dark denim on bottom. Everyone can give that their own flair."

Puck nods as his own phone chimes with the message. "Sounds good."

 

The next morning, Kurt's wearing a [deep red v-neck](http://www.americanapparel.com/6456.html?cid=198) and [tight dark jeans](http://www.zappos.com/volcom-nova-jean-la-tinta), leaning against the door of his SUV, and Puck can't help running his eyes over Kurt appreciatively. Puck's own jeans are a slimmer cut than he sometimes wears, and he decided on a red button-down over his usual wifebeater. Kurt's tongue runs smoothly across his lips and he tilts his head to the side.

"We," Kurt finally says, slowly, "are going to have car trouble this morning."

"We are?" Puck asks blankly.

"Yes. Get in."

Puck's still confused when Kurt pulls out and turns away from the school. "I'm confused."

"Text Finn and tell him to take better notes than usual in history, you need to copy them later. I can get mine from Tina later."

"Kurt…"

"Yes?"

"Are we skipping first period?"

"Yes."

Puck lets himself smile a bit. "… why?"

Kurt pulls into one of Lima's parks and choses a spot in the lot, then unbuckles and turns to Puck.

"Because we're going to go climb back there," Kurt gestured to the back seat, "and I'm going to peel those jeans off of you, and suck you dry." Kurt blushes brilliantly as he finishes speaking, as if he realizes what he just said.

Puck's mouth is hanging open. "Okay," he finally answers. "Sounds a lot better than history."

"Yes."

With that, the inside of the SUV turns into a frenzy of activity. Puck can't really record what's happening in his mind, he's just going with what he feels. He feels Kurt's hands pulling off his clothes, he feels Kurt's skin under his hands, he feels them wiggling and repositioning, and he feels Kurt's mouth on his erection just as the tip of Kurt's erection slides over Puck's parted lips.

Puck's forehead brushes against Kurt's balls with each slide down Kurt's length, and he feels Kurt's hand cupping his own balls. Kurt's tongue wraps around Puck as Puck laves his tongue slowly up and down Kurt. Puck rests his hand, fingers spread, on top of Kurt's ass, feeling the muscles move beneath Kurt's skin. Kurt groans around Puck, which makes Puck remember how Kurt hummed, and he tries it experimentally. Kurt's hips buck forward, and Puck grins around him, repeating the hum. Kurt moves again, and Puck tries his best to ignore what Kurt is doing to him and focus on Kurt himself. He moves his mouth farther down, trying to take more and more of Kurt in his mouth, increasing his speed. It doesn't take long before he feels Kurt come into his mouth, and the feel and taste of it makes him thrust into Kurt's mouth and climax, too, riding his orgasm out while still sucking gently on Kurt. He stills finally, letting Kurt's spent cock slip from his mouth. and he stays still while Kurt slowly moves, crawling up to lie beside Puck face to face. Kurt cups Puck's face in both his hands, kissing him deeply, and Puck can feel himself stirring again. He shifts slightly and realizes Kurt has the same issue. When Kurt pulls back, Puck chuckles.

"Our age is showing."

Kurt ducks his chin but grins.

"Not that it's a bad thing," Puck amends, "but…"

"But we should manage to show up for second period," Kurt acknowledges with a nod, slowly sitting up and reaching for his shirt. They dress slowly, pausing every few moments to kiss again, and they leave the SUV for a few moments to smooth down everything and look each other over. "We'll do," Kurt finally says with a nod, and they slide back into the front seat.

They reach the doors of the school just as the bell for the end of first period is ringing and walk to physics together. "Perfect timing," Puck says with a grin, and Kurt rolls his eyes a little but returns the grin. "Nice way to start the morning, too."

"Yes," Kurt agrees, cheeks pinking just a bit. The physics teacher passes out a quiz, much to their chagrin, but Puck thinks he managed to do all right on it, and Kurt looks not too terribly distressed.

When the bell rings, Kurt shoulders his bag and tilts his head, smiling at Puck. "See you in glee." He raises his eyebrows and smirks for a second. "Be good."

Puck returns the smirk. "I'm always good."

When Puck walks into glee club, he's still feeling pretty good from the morning's activities. Finn hands him a couple of sheets of paper and Puck nods his thanks. "Hey, man, everything okay?" Sam asks, sitting down next to him.

"Hmm?" Puck looks up. "Me?"

"Yeah, you missed first period," Sam continues.

"Oh, right. Yeah." Puck fights really hard not to grin. "Just, uh, car trouble." He hears Finn snort behind him but luckily Sam either ignores it, or doesn't realize that Finn's listening.

"Who's up first?" Schue calls, before anything else can be said.

Santana stands immediately, and a few of the girls whistle. Puck admits to raising his own eyebrows; she took the guidelines and went with a red tank top, a white men's shirt tied over it, and a very short dark jean miniskirt. The reason is obvious as she starts singing, though, belting out "Man! I Feel Like A Woman."

Then Artie rolls to the front of the room. "I selected a Toby Keith number," he begins, grabbing a guitar. It's some awful song about the flag and people dying, and Puck feels vaguely like he should expect that Dubya douchebag to parachute in. The applause at the end of the song is lukewarm at best.

"Interesting choice," Schue says at last, and Artie rolls back to the chairs, a pleased look on his face. "Now, we need to run through our numbers for this afternoon."

"Friday" is easy, since there's no real choreography and the lyrics aren't exactly complicated. After two run-throughs, Rachel stops them. "Mr. Schue, we really should spend more time on 'Loser Like Me.'" She shoots what might be an apologetic glance in Kurt's direction. "Finn, Puck, and I worked with Kurt last night to get him up to speed, but we need to rework the choreography, as it was done for an uneven number of boys and girls."

"Oh, yeah," Schue nods, "That's true. Okay, let's run through it in slow motion."

They spend the remainder the class period reworking the choreography slightly, usually altering it to whatever Puck and Rachel had devised the night before, and then running through the entire performance.

All twelve of them head to lunch in a clump, shoving two tables together and squeezing to fit around them. Almost everyone heads off to class when the bell rings, leaving Puck, Kurt, Tina, and Mike around a table. "Dual enrollment?" Mike asks, and they nod.

"Yeah, decided I'd just stick around today, though," Kurt adds.

Eventually, the four of them drift back to the choir room, Kurt and Tina working on college essays, Mike choreographing, and Puck alternating between writing music and what he's pretty sure is going to be the bane of his existence as far as music theory is concerned, score analysis. Puck's almost frustrated when the bell finally rings, and they head towards the gym for the assembly.

The twelve of them gather "off-stage" and listen to Figgins introduce them.

"Welcome to our first assembly of 2011-2012! Here to open us up are our own New Directions, fresh off their twelfth place finish at Nationals last spring!"

With that, they all run on stage, and Puck launches into the first lines of "Friday." By halfway through the song, most of the school is on their feet dancing along. Everyone cheers at the end, and Puck takes his seat with some relief.

The assembly is just as boring as Puck expected, Figgins droning on and on. The only interesting part is Karofsky announcing the PFLAG meeting. There are a couple of isolated comments, but glares from Figgins and Coach Sylvester make those stop quickly. Finally, the assembly is over, and they pile back on stage, taking position.

"This is one of our original songs, with which we won Regionals last year," Mr. Schuester is announcing them. "Please give a big hand for New Directions!"

The very familiar chords start, and Rachel launches into her solo. The school is almost silent, listening to the words, and most of the glee club isn’t shy about pointing directly into the crowd at pertinent points.

Mike wheels the prop on stage, just like they did at Regionals, and Puck can't help smirking at the look on the faces of the kids that are unlucky enough to be sitting in the front rows. They know exactly what the song is referencing, and most of them look scared shitless. When they toss the cups and only confetti rains out, there's some isolated laughter.

The applause is scattered and slow at first, but then it gradually spreads, until most of the school is not only clapping, but standing up. They fall into a messy twelve-person hug and then begin separating to practice and work and home. Before anyone is out of hearing range, Tina calls out, "Remember, seven at Mike's!"

 

Finn claps Puck on the back as they trot off the field at the end of practice. "Need a ride?"

"Yeah, thanks," Puck nods, and then decides to shower, since Finn takes forever to shower after practice. He's standing against Finn's truck when he phone chimes.

 _I'll pick you up at 6:30. Don't change clothes! xx_

 _I won't if you won't. xx_

Puck smiles and slides his phone into his pocket as Finn approaches. "You going to Mike's tonight?" Finn asks.

"Yeah. No technical reason not to."

"Yeah," Finn acknowledges with a nod. "I guess it'll be kind of fun. And games start next week." Finn falls silent for a moment before brightening. "Oh, Mom mentioned this morning after Kurt left, she was going to call your mom and invite you guys over on Monday for a cookout. Just our families, I mean."

"Cool. Mom'll like that."

Kurt does arrive right at 6:30. Puck doesn't exactly follow directions; he didn't replace the wifebeater after practice, and his shirt's tucked in now, belt in his jeans. In his opinion, he looks even better, though, so Puck's pretty sure that Kurt should approve. Then again, when Kurt steps out of the Navigator, he's done just the opposite, untucking his t-shirt. His hairs definitely a little messier, too.

"We have to go to Mike's?"

"We have to," Kurt agrees, frowning a little. They hold hands as they walk back down the stairs, Puck shoving his hands into his pockets when they get outside and walk back to the Navigator. They pull up at Mike's at the same time as Finn and Rachel, and if Rachel thinks it's odd that Puck arrived with Kurt, she doesn't say anything. The four of them arrive at the door together, and Mike's mom escorts them to the basement, where Mike's shoved a couch to one side, leaving most of the floor open. There's food near the TV, and Mike starts the movie as soon as everyone is there.

The known couples sit with each other, all together: Mercedes & Sam, Mike & Tina, and Finn & Rachel. Quinn perches awkwardly on the edge of the couch, Artie parked nearby. It leaves Brittany, Santana, Puck, and Kurt in an awkward four-person puppy pile, leaning against a pile of beanbag chairs. When the first dance sequence comes up, Kurt jumps up and grabs Santana, and they do their best to imitate the steps. When Baby gets up to staff dance, though, Santana pulls away, motioning Puck and Brittany both to their feet, and then shoving Puck straight at Kurt, claiming Brittany for herself.

Puck's getting used to pulling Kurt into dancing by now, but he still exchanges a quizzical glance with Santana. She just smiles, pulling Brittany closer. Puck and Kurt clown around for a few minutes, trying to imitate the dancing on the screen and laughing. After awhile, the four of them draw attention from the others, and Mike springs up. "Great idea!"

Soon, that's how they're all watching the movie, doing the steps along with the movie, resting when there's no dancing on screen, all in their same-sex partnerships. "The same-sex pairings are what's pushing the envelope–and I don't mean any offense, Kurt–so we need to feel the sexiness there," Mike explains.

Kurt waves a hand dismissively. "Like when we did 'Push It,'" he says with a little grin, and they all laugh.

"Exactly," Tina says with a matching grin. "So we know the six of us can bring the sexy," she continues, then eyes the other six challenging. "What about the other six of you?"

"I can bring it," Puck says with a smirk and a nod. "I don't know about the rest of them, but I'll put you six to shame."

"Ohh, you are on," Finn says with a grin, and everyone laughs. They go back into the dancing bits of the movie, then, and everyone starts dancing with a little added edge. Puck grins and takes advantage of the mostly dark room to pull Kurt a little closer.

The movie's over by nine, and everyone stays for a little longer, practicing various steps. Finally Puck stands still and fakes a yawn, and it starts a cascade of people making their excuses and trailing up out of the basement.

"That wasn't so bad," Kurt comments quietly as they drive through the darkening streets.

"No. Sometimes I think… but then…"

"Yeah. I know."


	14. And Sunday Comes Afterward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a good Saturday

Puck sleeps in on Saturday morning, and when he gets up, his mom and Hannah have left for temple. There's a text message waiting from Kurt, saying he'll be there at 10. Puck checks the clock; 9:15 already. He showers and gets dressed, then heads down the stairs to wait outside for Kurt. When Kurt pulls up, he's got fresh doughnuts and coffee waiting in the car.

"Awesome," Puck says gratefully.

"I thought we'd both appreciate them," Kurt says with a nod. Once the doughnuts are eaten, their hands find each other, and they pass the ride to Dayton in comfortable silence, occasionally singing along with the radio.

"I thought we'd go down towards the mall to eat," Kurt says as they pass through Dayton proper. "Maybe do a little shopping, then come back up to the center."

"Sounds good. What do you want to eat for lunch?"

"P. F. Chang's sound good?" Kurt flashes a smile. "My treat."

"Oh, yeah." Puck grins. "Perfect." What's really perfect, though, in Puck's mind is that when they stop at the restaurant, he doesn't have to walk inside with his hands in his pockets. He wraps an arm around Kurt's back, pulling him close. Kurt looks over and smiles as they walk through the door. They're seated quickly, at a booth that can seat four, and Kurt slides in on the same side of the table as Puck. The hostess raises an eyebrow, and Puck smiles pleasantly at her. She flushes and puts the menus on the table without meeting their eyes.

"What did you do?" Kurt asks, amused.

"I smiled." Puck smirks. "Nothing else, just a nice smile."

"Oh, it's that scary variety of gays," Kurt nods sagely. "The nice, normal ones."

Puck laughs. "I thought we were always scary."

"You two? Nah," the server interrupts them with a grin, introducing himself and taking their drink and appetizer orders.

Puck keeps his arm around Kurt until the food arrives, Kurt leaning into his side. Puck lets his eyes close once, savoring the feeling. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

Kurt turns sympathetic eyes towards him, a sad smile on his lips, but doesn't reply, and Puck knows he's waiting to see if Puck wants to continue.

"It's just that this is _so_ easy. This, right now, today." Puck moves his other hand to Kurt's leg, squeezing gently. "And I know that it wouldn't be so simple at home. It's hard no matter what. I just… it wasn't that hard over the summer."

"No," Kurt says at last with a sigh. "It isn't. Summer is easy." Kurt purses his lips for a moment. "The first few weeks are the hardest. It's a shock to the system, going from summer back to all the shit they dish out. By October, the memory of summer fades a little. It's a little easier to get up in the morning, a little easier to face. Mondays aren't the hardest though; that's Tuesdays or Wednesdays. The winter holidays come just in time, and there are days in February…" Kurt takes a deep breath, then a drink of his water. "It's always so grey and dark. But then March and April arrive, and then… then you can see the summer again. And it helps." Kurt laughs bitterly. "I'm still waiting for the _better_ part. I think that you don't get until after you get the diploma."

Puck frowns and pulls Kurt closer, kissing his temple.

"I'm painting too dark a picture," Kurt says, a little shakily. "There are days and days that go by, and it's not so hard. It's gotten easier every year. I have so many people– _we_ have so many people–oh, fuck, it's better, it is. _This_ is better. It's finding the good. It's hanging on." He smiles. "It's knowing that they really are the ones who will be working the counter at Pat's when we come back to visit."

Puck grins a little at the last. "That will be sort of satisfying." He kisses Kurt gently. "So… it's hard, but it's doable?"

"Yeah. Exactly." Kurt leans his head onto Puck's shoulder. "Hard but doable. And some days give you enough to get you through others."

"Like yesterday morning."

" _Exactly_ like yesterday morning," Kurt agrees with a laugh. "All of yesterday, really. It makes up for days like Wednesday, when it's just drudgery and hiding and waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Sometimes I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I try not to." Kurt runs his fingers lightly over Puck's forearm. "No slushies yet this year." He knocks on the table. "No dumpster tosses." Puck winces. "No locker checks. Just garden-variety looks. So sometimes, I can't believe that it's really better. And I wait." He laughs. "Then I see Karofsky in that ridiculous beret."

Puck joins Kurt's laughter, and the food arrives then. The conversation moves to lighter topics, and after they finish, Kurt steers them towards the Barnes & Noble. "I wanted to find another book on essays," he explains with a frown. "I know the ones for Hunter are fine. I'll probably send that all in on Monday or Tuesday. But the rest of them…"

"Yeah. I know what you mean. It feels like too much is riding on them."

"Exactly!"

They don't spend long in the bookstore, but Kurt finds a book that he thinks will do and buys it. Then they head back into Dayton proper, Puck giving directions as Kurt tries to determine which streets go which direction. The first time, they drive past the center, and the second, they miss the parking structure, but by the third time down the street, they manage to find the right place and park. There aren't many people lingering in downtown Dayton on a Saturday, and the parking is free. They walk arm in arm to the center door, and go in, a little cautiously.

"You boys lost?" a teasing voice asks, and Puck turns his head towards it.

"No, but we're from Lima, which is worse," he quips, and Kurt laughs next to him.

"Oh, I am sorry," the owner of the voice appears, offering his hand. "I'm Jim. Welcome."

"Puck."

"Kurt."

"It's nice to meet you both." Jim takes a few minutes to give them a mini-tour, explain that they're actually just in time for an informal support meeting in twenty more minutes, and then he deposits them in a room filled with couches and a television quietly playing a movie.

"Hi," a girl speaks up from one of the couches. "You're new, aren't you?"

Kurt raises an eyebrow but smiles, and Puck grins. "Yes."

"I'm April." They go through introductions again, and sit on a couch near hers. "Where are you two from?"

"Lima," they groan in unison.

"Lima, really? I'm sorry," she says sincerely. "Life is hard enough here in Dayton." She tilts her head. "Though you both look kind of familiar."

"We escape down here," Kurt says with a shrug. "No one knows us here."

Two adults walk into the room then, a few other teens trailing them, and the adults call the makeshift meeting to order, requesting everyone go around the room and introduce themselves with a little bit about themselves beyond just their name.

Puck's privately a little relieved that Kurt's turn comes before his, because he has no idea what to do or say.

"I'm Kurt. I'm a senior, I live in Lima, and… sometimes I think I'm a walking stereotype." There's a little bit of gentle laughter.

"I'm Puck," Puck begins. "Also live in Lima, also a senior at McKinley–"

"McKinley!" April interrupts. "Are you two in show choir?"

"Yeah…"

"I knew I'd seen you somewhere before!" she says with a smile. "I'm in Aural Intensity."

"Oh, I am so sorry," Puck says with utter sincerity, and Kurt nods beside him.

"How did you deal with Coach Sylvester?"

"That woman was _awful_ ," April agrees with a shudder. "But I knew I recognized you!" She turns to the rest of the group. "Their glee club won Regionals and went to Nationals. How'd you do?"

"Twelfth."

"Awesome!" She grins, then tilts her head. "Except, wait…"

"Yeah, I was at Dalton part of last year," Kurt nods. "It…" he trails off and looks at the adults. "I'm sorry, we're derailing this."

"No, go ahead," the woman reassures him, and Puck squeezes Kurt's hand.

"Kurt had to transfer for awhile last year," he says simply.

"Had to?"

"You're kind of nosey, aren't you?"

"It's fine, Puck. Yes," Kurt addressed April directly. "The slushies in the face and locker checks were things I could deal with, but when someone threatens to kill you…" He trails off.

"Really?" The guy leading the group breaks in. "Someone threatened to kill you? And you were the one who had to leave?"

Puck's jaw tightens as Kurt goes a little paler. "Yeah, because the school board is full of Jesus-loving dickwads, and as much as we wanted to, the rest of us couldn't form a protection detail every day at school. Even Kurt's dad couldn't fix it, and Burt Hummel's pretty scary when someone threatens his kid."

"What changed?"

"He… apologized. The kid that threatened me." Kurt purses his lips. "I can't really go into details, but it was a sincere apology. I'm pretty sure he's in therapy, now."

"What about the rest of you? What kind of bullying have you reported? What as the school's reaction?"

The conversation shifts away from them, and Puck wraps both his arms around Kurt, Kurt's head resting on his chest. The discussion topic changes a bit, and then someone's saying something about being out at school, and people who aren't out, and Puck can't help but stiffen a little. He guesses it's his turn to feel uncomfortable. Another voice chimes in, deriding those that aren't out, and Puck's trying to figure a way out of the situation when Kurt speaks up.

"Sometimes it's just not _safe_ to be out," he interjects. "Safe for yourself, or safe for people who are already out. Physical bullying is a reality for us. When it's just me, my brother and Puck and the guys in glee club can manage to keep me safe, to keep all of us safe. But…"

"Puck's not out?" someone interrupts.

"No," Puck answers shortly. "I'm not."

"He's surprisingly more effective that way," Kurt says dryly, straightening a little. "You mean none of you are familiar with the line of thought whereby the resident queer–that would be me in this little scenario, in case you aren't following–needs to be 'taught a lesson' or some other stock phrase, because he's 'spread the gay' or 'infected' someone else?"

The guy that was complaining about people not being out frowns, looking down. "Aren't you exaggerating?"

"I transferred to a school where I had to wear polyester uniforms," Kurt says with a glare. "We're not exaggerating."

"He's really not," Puck nods. "The first day of school this year… locker room talk starts from day one. Four seniors, three sophomores, and it's underground talk now, sure, but," Puck shrugs. Kurt squeezes his leg briefly.

"Is anyone else out at your school?"

"No."

"And it would be hard for me not to be out. Even before I came out, everyone knew. I think it was the scarves."

"I like those scarves," Puck says with a grin, looking at Kurt, and Kurt ducks his head, grinning a little.

The conversation steers away from them again, and then the adults say the formal meeting is over, and everyone should talk. April turns to them immediately. "So, tell me more about the kids in your club. You sound like you're talking about family when we do."

Puck laughs. "We practically are. You got any pictures on your phone?"

"A few from New York and one from Friday." Kurt pulls out his phone and finds the photos. "That's my brother."

"The freakishly tall one?"

"The very same. He and Puck have been best friends for–"

"First grade."

"And that's Rachel, his girlfriend."

"Do they know about you two?"

"Finn does, Rachel doesn't. Rachel can't keep a secret at all."

"No, she really can't."

"We're a really fucked up family," Puck finally says. "And we're all seniors, we've been together since the beginning of sophomore year."

"Yeah? I'm just a junior," April says with a nod. "Ooh, damn, she is HOT!"

Kurt looks over at the phone and grins. "She may or may not be taken, we're not really sure right now," he says nonchalantly.

"Yeah, but…" she trails off and looks at the grins on their faces. "She's into girls? Seriously?"

"Seriously," Kurt confirms. "Not out, but it's sort of an… open secret, I guess you'd say. Within the club."

"Hey, some of us are going to walk down to Flying Pizza," a guy calls from across the room. "Want to come?"

Kurt looks at Puck, who shrugs and nods, and they follow the others out the door and down the street. There are ten or twelve of them, and Puck's struck by the fact that he and Kurt are surrounded people _like them_. Kurt's got an arm around Puck's waist, and Puck has his across Kurt's back, and he gets what Kurt was saying earlier. Some moments get you through the others.

When they're stopped on a corner, waiting for the light to change, Puck turns Kurt to him and kisses him, holding him close. Puck deepens the kiss and when they pull apart to cross the street, there are few catcalls.

"Damn, you two are hot," the guy from earlier says. "Are you sure you manage to keep it a secret?"

"Puck's perfected the art of walking with his hands in his pockets," Kurt says with a grin, and Puck demonstrates for a moment before reclaiming Kurt. The others laugh as they enter the pizza place and order.

The meal is easy. Puck decides that's the best word for it. No one knows each other that well, but everyone is mostly friendly, and he gets to touch Kurt throughout the meal. He glances at the clock around 5:15 and whispers in Kurt's ear.

"Want to get out of here?"

Kurt bites his lip for a second before nodding, and Puck fights hard to keep a knowing smirk off his face. Good. Kurt's mind was going in the same direction as Puck's.

"We should really start driving back," Kurt announces, and Puck leaves a $20 on the table to cover their share of the tab. "It was nice to meet all of you."

"Come back some other Saturday!"

"I'll see you two at Sectionals or Regionals," April grins.

"Count on it. We're gonna wipe the floor with you," Puck asserts, returning the grin.

"Where to?" Kurt asks as soon as they're headed north on 75.

"Somewhere without other people."

"Got it."

Puck spends the time in the car watching Kurt. He runs his fingertips lightly over Kurt's forearm and then stretches a little to rest his hand against Kurt's neck. The position is somewhat awkward, but Puck feels like he'd be in actual physical pain if he weren't touching Kurt. His eyes keep tracing over Kurt's profile, down Kurt's arms to his hands, and then back to his face.

"Do I have something on my face?"

"No," Puck says softly.

Kurt's tongue runs slowly over his lips. "So the look you're giving me…"

"What look?" Puck tries to affect innocence.

"Like you want to…"

"Devour you?"

Kurt shivers a little. "Yes."

"Pretty much," Puck admits, trailing his hand back down Kurt's forearm. "Why else did you think I thought we should leave so early?"

Kurt lifts his shoulders in a tiny shrug. "I perhaps hoped."

"No need to hope," Puck assures him, lifting one of Kurt's hands from the steering wheel and bringing it to his lips. "How much further?"

"If we take the earlier exit and go to someplace like Foundry… ten or fifteen minutes," Kurt says, voice a little breathy.

"I'll do my best, then."

"Your best?"

"To control myself that long." Puck sucks gently on Kurt's pinkie, taking in Kurt's small exclamation with a smug smile. He'll take what he can get until Kurt can stop driving. He slowly releases that finger and turns to the next one, licking it from bottom to tip before engulfing it in his mouth.

"Puck." Kurt's voice is lower, and Puck recognizes what that means.

"Shh." Puck rests one hand on Kurt's thigh for a moment, pulling his mouth away from Kurt's hand. "Just…"

He moves to the next finger, sliding his mouth tightly up and down a few times, and Kurt actually groans. "Just what," he finally manages.

"Just imagine," Puck finishes, nipping on the side of Kurt's finger, sliding along the side of his index finger now.

"That… may be the problem. I have an excellent imagination."

"Oh?" Puck nibbles at the skin between Kurt's thumb and index finger. "Tell me."

"I'm trying to drive!" Kurt's voice returns to its higher registers, clearly distressed.

"Tell me," Puck insists. He runs his mouth up Kurt's thumb. "Tell me about it." He sucks on the tip of Kurt's thumb, watching Kurt closely.

"You… I'm sitting in the floor. We're watching TV." Kurt's face is slowly turning red, and Puck sucks a little more of Kurt's thumb into his mouth. "And you put your head in my lap."

Puck nods.

"And you," Kurt breath catches for a minute. "You slide my pants off."

"Are you hard?"

"Yess. So hard."

"Are you wearing any underwear?" Puck leaves Kurt's thumb resting under his tongue as he talks.

"No." Kurt's gaze flickers towards Puck and Puck sees that Kurt's eyes are bright. "I'm not."

"Fuck, that's hot." Puck sucks harder on Kurt's tongue. "What do I do then?"

"You lick me."

"Like this?" Puck demonstrates on Kurt's hand, licking a line from his wrist, straight up his palm and middle finger.

"Yes!"

"Then what?" Puck starts sucking on Kurt's fingers again, this time three at once.

"Ohh, god, like that." Puck notices they're getting off the interstate at last, and he's very grateful. "You, uh." Kurt's breathing is fast and shallow now. "Take me in your mouth." Kurt executes a left turn, and Puck's pretty sure they are going faster than allowed by law.

"Like this?" Puck moves his mouth down Kurt's fingers, still suckling.

"God, yes." Kurt shifts in his seat, and Puck can see the bulge in Kurt's pants. Another left turn.

"How much farther?" Puck groans around Kurt's fingers.

"A few blocks." Kurt's face is flushed, and pink is creeping below his collar as well.

"Fuck, I need you," Puck forces out, and he unbuckles his seatbelt after they round another corner.

Kurt nods, and Puck swipes his tongue around Kurt's fingers again before pulling away, changing his position. When Kurt stops the car, Puck springs, attacking Kurt's lips with his, fingers scrambling with Kurt's pants. Puck's body is draped awkwardly over the huge center console that he secretly hates, legs twisted and bent. When he finally moves Kurt's pants down, he breaks the kiss and chuckles. "Oh, you weren't lying."

Kurt looks at him coyly and just shakes his head. Puck runs an appreciative hand over Kurt's cock, licking his own lips, and kisses Kurt deeply for a moment before pulling back and lowering his face into Kurt's lap. "Please, Puck."

"Please?" Puck buries his face in the dark hair at the base of Kurt's cock and takes a deep breath. "Please what?"

"Please… please suck me, baby."

Puck has the fleeting thought that it's good Kurt doesn't yet seem to realize what it does to him when Kurt calls him 'baby.' Kurt could probably ask him to grow his hair out, dye it pink, and get a Prince Albert, and if Kurt said 'baby' at the end of the request, well. Puck would do it. And pink really isn't his color.

Puck wraps his tongue around the base of Kurt's cock for a moment, then murmurs, "As you wish," before slowly kissing his way up the shaft. He dips his tongue into the slit at the top, tasting Kurt, and knows it won't be long before Kurt explodes.

Strangled gasps and groans fall out of Kurt's mouth, one hand pulling on Puck's mohawk, the other resting on Puck's bicep, and Puck moves to take as much of Kurt into his mouth as he can. Puck closes his eyes and opens his mouth wider, his tongue circling around Kurt's cock, savoring the taste on his tongue. He pumps up and down carefully, making sure he won't hit his head on the steering wheel, then settles into a steady pace, letting out a contented "Mmmm."

"Oh, Puck. Yessss. Fuck. Fuck. Your mouth. Fuck." Kurt's gasping out his words, and soon they degenerate into syllables and half-recognizable statements that let Puck know that Kurt's slowly falling apart underneath Puck's mouth. Kurt's fingers tighten in Puck's hair, his pinkie and ring finger scraping over the shaved portion of his head, and Puck's pretty sure he's going to have four finger-shaped bruises (and one thumb-shaped one) on his arm, from Kurt clinging to him tightly.

Puck tightens his mouth a little around Kurt, and wedges one hand between his face and Kurt's thigh, lightly grasping Kurt's balls, moving them softly in his fingers. Puck hears Kurt's head hit the back of his seat, and Puck can't resist opening his eyes to peer upwards. Kurt's eyes are closed, his head thrown back and throat exposed, and all the skin Puck can see is a beautiful darkening pink. He's completely uncomposed, and the sight makes Puck return to his task with new vigor, moving a little faster and sucking a little harder. He squeezes Kurt's balls lightly and then moves his hand to the base of Kurt's cock, sliding it quickly up and down over the bottom.

Kurt shudders underneath Puck, and Puck grins around Kurt's erection. He increases his speed slightly, again, and Kurt lets out a low, throaty sound. Puck knows what that noise means, now, and takes Kurt as deep as he can before stilling as Kurt comes, fluid spurting into his mouth and sliding down his throat. He releases Kurt with a wet slurp, sitting up his knees and pulling Kurt into a messy kiss. He pulls away to take in Kurt's appearance and smirks, then scrambles over the seat into the back of the Navigator.

"Puck?" Kurt's voice sounds almost lost. "Wha–?"

"C'mere," Puck says with a grin, tugging on Kurt's shoulder, and after a moment, Kurt follows the same path Puck took, tumbling into the backseat.

Kurt slumps against the seat, still looking dazed, and Puck takes advantage of his dazed state to finish removing his clothes. "Your turn," Kurt murmurs when Puck finishes, and Puck smirks before whipping off his shirt and shedding his jeans and underwear.

"Better?"

"Yes." Kurt reaches for him, pulling Puck tight against him. "Mmm, you still need something?"

Puck presses against Kurt's body, covering Kurt's mouth with his, his tongue probing deeply into Kurt's mouth, and nods. Kurt runs his hands over Puck's back and down over his ass, and Puck can't stop his hips pushing upwards into Kurt's hands, especially as one finger lingers in the middle of his ass. Kurt pauses for a split second, and Puck keeps kissing him. Then Kurt tentatively runs a single finger over Puck, starting at the small of his back and continuing lower and lower. Kurt stops just above the creased skin around Puck's anus, then continues, his touch feather light. Puck pulls away from Kurt's mouth to groan and push back against it.

"Puck?" Kurt's voice is very soft and hesitant. "Do you…?"

"Yes. _Please_ ," the words tumble out of Puck's mouth before he can stop to evaluate or filter them.

"Oh. Ohh." Kurt's finger moves, and Puck whimpers. Then Kurt's slipping his fingers past Puck's lips, and Puck's coating them in saliva and the remnants of Kurt's own fluids. When Kurt seems satisfied, he pulls them out slowly, and then flips them, Puck lying on his back on the seat and Kurt kneeling between his legs. "Further," Kurt says softly, and Puck lets his legs fall open, one leg propped on the back of the seat and dangling.

Then Kurt's finger slowly circles his tight skin, and Puck groans. "Oh, _fuck yes_. Please, Kurt."

"Please what?"

Puck's breathing grows shallower. "Please inside me. Fuck."

Kurt smiles, almost lazily, and pushes his finger in slowly, stopping at what Puck thinks is probably the first knuckle. "More."

"Are you sure?"

"More," Puck insists, tilting his hips up, and Kurt's finger pushes further in, popping past the inner ring of muscle. "Yeah. Ohh."

Kurt tilts his head, watching him, and then slowly moves his finger in and out. Puck pushes towards Kurt. "Not… going to… hurt me."

The speed of Kurt's finger increases slightly. "Are you sure?" Kurt whispers, and Puck nods. "Okay." Kurt pulls his hand away and then slips two fingers back to Puck's entrance, pushing them in slowly. Puck gasps and rolls his hips upwards.

"Fuck. Yes."

"You like that?" Kurt's voice has a little more confidence, and Puck recognizes the tone.

"Yeah. Yeah."

"Like this?" Kurt pushes farther in, fingers fluttering inside Puck.

"Yess. Fuck, Kurt."

Kurt bends over, the action forcing his fingers deeper into Puck, and whispers into Puck's ear. "Let's make you scream, baby."

"Oh, fuck yes." Puck thrusts himself down onto Kurt's fingers as Kurt tries to withdraw them slightly. "More, please."

Kurt pulls his hand completely away, and Puck groans with disappointment. "Noo."

"Shh. Shh." Kurt's other hand is on the inside of his thigh, soothing. "Look at me, Puck." Puck forces his eyes open and watches Kurt re-coating his fingers with saliva, then adding a third to his mouth.

"Ohh. Yeah. Kurt. _Kurt._ " Kurt's fingers slide from his mouth a final time, and Puck feels them nudging. He lets his legs drop open as wide as he can, tilting his pelvis up, and all three fingers slide in. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes."

Kurt slowly slides his fingers almost completely out, then pushes them in again, and Puck pushes himself down to meet them. "Fuck. Please fuck me. Fuck. Kurt." Puck can feel himself flushing as he registers what he's said, and Kurt's face is deep pink as he moves his hand faster in Puck. Puck closes his eyes again as Kurt's fingers probe and push inside him, and somewhere in his mind, he knows that they're searching, searching for–

"Fuck!" Puck's eyes fly open and he bucks upwards. "YES. Fuck. Right. There."

Kurt's smirking, and he brushes the same spot again, Puck's eyes rolling back and his head hitting the seat hard. Kurt's hand is moving faster and harder, and Puck reaches behind him, holding onto the side of the car for leverage, thrusting to meet Kurt's hand. Kurt's fingers find his prostate, again and again, and he can feel his climax building, when Kurt's free hand reaches down and circles Puck's erection.

Kurt pumps his hand once, twice, then a third time, his hand deep inside Puck, and Puck can feel Kurt's fingernail scraping against his prostate. "Come, baby," Kurt whispers, and that's all it takes. Puck does scream, Kurt's name falling from his lips in a strangled prayer.

Puck's arms fall limp as he releases the tight grip he was holding, and his leg slides down, narrowly avoiding giving Kurt an inadvertent kick in the shoulder. Kurt slowly removes his fingers and releases Puck's spent cock, leading Puck to whimper slightly. A moment later, though, Kurt's pressed on top of him, kissing him gently, and Puck's eyes flutter open.

"Kurt," he whispers, locking his gaze with the other boy's clear blue eyes, unable to form any other words. "Kurt."

Kurt just smiles, then softly kisses Puck again, their eyes closing slowly. Puck brings one arm up to hold Kurt more securely on him, and Kurt burrows against his side. The shadows grow longer as they lay there in a beautiful silence, and Puck fights to stay awake. As much as he wants to let himself sleep with Kurt in his arms, he knows the park is not the place. The darkness grows and finally he runs his hands softly down Kurt's back. "We should get up," he murmurs, and Kurt nods, slowly pushing himself up.

"We should," he agrees, and reluctantly hands Puck his clothes. When they're both dressed again, Puck pulls Kurt back into his arms and kisses him. "'M hungry," Puck admits sheepishly when they separate.

"Let's go get some ice cream, then," Kurt says with a grin. "Pat's sounds good around now."

"Yes," Puck agrees, and takes Kurt's hand, forcing him to drive the nearly fifteen minutes to Pat's one-handed.

The parking lot is crowded, and Kurt pulls into a spot at the Advance Auto Parts next door. Puck winces as he walks around the front and starts to slide his arm around Kurt, instead shoving his hand deep into his pocket with a frown. Kurt notes the movement and shoots Puck a short, sympathetic smile before heading across the parking lot.

"Dutch now," he murmurs under his breath, holding the door open for Puck, and Puck nods. They each get a double scoop waffle cone and look around for a table when Puck hears a familiar voice.

"Puck! Kurt!" They spin to see Brittany waving, sitting at a booth with Santana and a girl they don't know. Puck thinks it could be the same girl from the movies the other day. "Come sit down!"

They push their way through the crowds and squeeze in on opposite sides of the booth, Puck next to Brittany, and Kurt uncomfortably perched on the end of the seat next to Santana and the other girl.

"'Sup," Santana drawls, licking at her own cone. "Fancy meeting you two here."

"You were at the movie theatre!" the other girl pipes up. "I'm Stef."

Puck nods. "Nice to meet you. Puck."

"And this is Kurt," Brittany continues, smiling. "We're all in glee club together."

"Cool," Stef nods. "You guys having a good Saturday."

"Yes," Kurt says after a moment's pause, and Puck feels a little guilty for taking a huge bite to avoid the question. Just a little, because he doesn't think he could answer it appropriately. "And you?" he asks, very proper, taking prim nibbles of his ice cream.

"Absolutely. We just got through watching _Apollo 18_."

"Ooh, was it good?"

"Bitchin'," Santana agrees. "You should check it out."

" _The Debt_ looked good, too, though," Kurt continues, and Puck nods in agreement.

The conversation turns to movies for awhile, then Santana abruptly changes the subject. "So, Schue forgot to gives us an assignment. Even though no school on Monday."

"We can wow him with our dancing prowess," Kurt says with a smirk. "Another two or three days of practice and we'll have something worth showing him, even if it's not finished."

"Definitely," Brittany nods. "And Finn only has to dance with Artie. And me, but really, I'm leading." She grins. "Don't tell him, Kurt. Or you either, Puck."

Puck grins. "Wouldn't dream of it. But he probably realizes it."

"Yeah, he's big and dumb, but sometimes he's not. Well. Not _that_ dumb," Kurt tries to explain. "Be nice to my little brother," he adds, grinning. "He's very useful when things need to be put away at a great height."

 _Santana, Brittany, and Puck all laugh, and Kurt leans towards Stef to explain. "My brother–technically my stepbrother, but–is about 6'4"."_

 _"Ohhh."_

 _"And a horrible dancer," Santana adds._

 _After more conversation, Santana, Stef, and Brittany get up to leave, and Puck and Kurt follow them out, walking into the streetlit night. "What time is it?" Puck asks absently._

 _Santana yells back the time, climbing into her car and waving as they pull away._

 _"Fuck, really?"_

 _"We must've been in there longer than we realized." Kurt winces. "C'mon, let's get you home."_

 _When Kurt parks in front of the building, though, Puck doesn't move, leaving his hand on Kurt's thigh, and Kurt puts a hand on top of it. "Come over tomorrow afternoon," Puck finally speaks. "I need help with history, and I bet you need some help with math by now. Mom'll cook us supper. Maybe we can watch a movie after supper."_

 _"Okay," Kurt agrees, squeezing his hand gently. He turns and smiles at Puck. "Sleep well, okay?"_

 _"Okay," Puck agrees. "Be good."_

 _"I'm always good," Kurt whispers as Puck gets out of the car at last. Puck turns his head and shoots Kurt one last smile, then slips inside the door._

 _Kurt raps on the door at 2:30 exactly the next afternoon, rousing Puck from his half-awake stupor on the living room couch. "Hey," Puck pulls Kurt into a rough hug._

 _"Hi. Tired?"_

 _"Yeah." Puck takes Kurt's hand and walks back to the couch, sitting down heavily. "Work was slow, though." He leans against Kurt's shoulder. "How was your morning? Afternoon? Whatever."_

 _Kurt shrugs. "Fine. I did submit my Hunter application, finally."_

 _Puck raises his head and grins. "Hey, awesome."_

 _"I also found out about this cookout that's apparently happening tomorrow."_

 _Puck frowns, thinking. "Oh, yeah, maybe Finn mentioned that?"_

 _"I think you are all supposed to come over around 11," Kurt continues. "I'm suppose to reassure your mother that all the meat will be kosher and there will be no pork in the barbecue beans, thanks to Carole's miraculous turkey bacon." He smiles brightly, and Puck chuckles._

 _"That is some damn good turkey," Puck agrees with a nod._

 _Kurt giggles. "We're so awful. I feel like a colluder now."_

 _"You are," Puck smirks. "A secret pork colluder."_

 _"Do we get secret decoder rings that will spell out B-A-C-O-N?"_

 _"Yes!" Puck grins. "Definitely."_

 _"What's so funny?" Rina appears in the living room, sending them into further laughter, and Puck waves his mom away._

 _"We should actually study," Puck says after a minute. "History or math first?"_

 _Kurt takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself. "Math."_

 _Puck laughs. "All right. Stats, yeah?"_

 _"Yes." Kurt withdraws the book from his bag and sighs heavily. "I had the first concepts. Even the -tiles. Standard deviation started to lose me. The Greek letters?" Kurt throws his hands up._

 _"Okay. Standard deviation." Puck pages through the book. "It's like… steps on a number line. Each standard deviation is -1 or +1, but sometimes that equals different numbers."_

 _"How can one sometimes be different?"_

 _Puck pulls out a piece of paper and starts drawing sketches, explaining the concepts as they page through the book, and an hour later, Kurt's finished most of his homework for the week and is looking at Puck like he's a genius. Which, Puck considers, he might be, at least compared to Kurt's own math skills._

 _"Now, you gotta explain this history shit to me."_

 _Kurt smiles, stifling a laugh. "Which history shit?"_

 _"Something about this ridiculous Martin Luther dude, who apparently hated the Jews." Puck frowns. "I looked him up on Wikipedia. He was really a douchebag."_

 _"What's the assignment?"_

 _Puck fishes around in his binder. "'Choose one aspect of Martin Luther's work and explain how it affected one to three later events in European history,'" he parrots. "So I thought, obviously he said all this shit, and Wikipedia even agreed, Hitler thought it was dope."_

 _Kurt purses his lips and then shrugs. "Okay. Sounds plausible. What's the requirements for the essay?"_

 _"Three sources, can include internet but not Wikipedia." Puck frowns. "I don't know why teachers hate on Wikipedia so much. I've learned all kinds of things from it."_

 _"Well, luckily, it usually has external links. First, though–"_

 _"Outline?" Puck frowns._

 _"Outline," Kurt confirms._

 _By the time Rina comes to tell them it's time for dinner, Puck has most of his essay finished, and they've each worked on their respective English assignments, too._

 _"I made the salad!" Hannah announces as they sit down to eat, and Puck grins._

 _"Mice or bugs, squirt?"_

 _"Mice!"_

 _"They're pear halves," Puck explains to Kurt, "with a raisin and a carrot curl tail, and marshmallow ears." He points to the small plate at each place, and Kurt smiles._

 _After they've each eaten their allotted two mice, Rina brings out a huge casserole dish of meatless manicotti. "That's nice, Mom, but what are you and Hannah going to eat?" Puck jokes._

 _She just shakes her head. "Boys," she says with a mock sigh. "I feel sorry for your parents, Kurt. How do they feed two of you?"_

 _"Lots of salad," Kurt answers with a smile, and Rina laughs._

 _"What are you boys doing after we finish cleaning up?" she asks as everyone cleans their plates._

 _"Thought about watching a movie," Puck replies, catching Kurt's eyes and raising an eyebrow. Kurt nods, and Puck continues. "You and Hannah want to watch, too?"_

 _"Everyone's homework is done?" Rina looks at all three of them in term, getting a nod of assurance from each before moving to the next. "All right then. Let's go agree on a movie."_

 _"High School Musical 2!" Hannah cheers, and there is an immediate chorus of three no's, causing her to pout. "Never Say Never?" she offers hopefully, but more quietly, and Puck shakes his head and rolls his eyes._

 _"No, we are not watching Bieber."_

 _"Fine." Hannah and Puck bicker for a few more moments, until Rina goes over to the shelf for a moment, then announces she has two movies behind her back._

 _"One of your favorites, Hannah, and one of yours, Puck." His mom looks mischievous, and Puck frowns a little. "Kurt, pick right or left."_

 _"Left."_

 _" _You've Got Mail_ it is, then," Rina announces, and turns to Hannah. "Sorry, honey, _Hoosiers_ next time."_

Puck groans and sits down as Kurt turns to him, an astonished expression on his face. "Puck…"

"What?" he says defensively. "It's a good movie. It's got Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. And it's so much better than–shutting up now," he interrupts himself.

Kurt stifles a laugh and sits down next to Puck, wrapping an arm around him. "All right. I do have an especial fondness for the opening sequence, myself."

"Though the fashions are somewhat tragically outdated," Kurt appends his statement a few minutes into the movie, and Puck laughs.

"I don't know, that one guy looks like Finn if you just added a sweater between his shirt and coat."

"So you're basically saying Finn is still dressing as if it were 1998, and he were 4?"

"… Maybe so."

"That's me," Kurt says at another point. "Granted, he's actually their brother and nephew, but that's going to be me–the amazing uncle."

"Unless your dad and Carole…" Puck trails off, grinning.

Kurt squinches up his eyes. "I'm going to watch this movie and try to forget you just suggested that."

Puck laughs and kisses Kurt. "You do that."

"I've never seen _The Godfather_ ," Puck admits later, and Kurt shakes his head.

"Me either."

"Oh, that's a crime," Rina breaks in. "Hannah's too young, of course, but really."

"A turtleneck sweater and a blazer is also a crime," Kurt snipes as the scene changes. "But perhaps we should watch _The Godfather_ sometime."

More of the movie passes. "New York City apartments aren't really that roomy, are they?"

"Maybe? I think those are the expensive ones. The really expensive ones."

When the movie's over and Kurt slips out the door, Puck turns around to find his mother looking at him, an amused smile on her face. "What?"

"I'm not sure which of you is cuter," she says at last, smirking at him.

"What?"

"Kurt looks at you like you hung the moon, or maybe the sun and the moon, but then you look at him like you're a dying man in a dessert, and he's an entire oasis."

Puck can feel himself flushing. "Uh." He shuffles his feet for a second. "I'm just gonna… go get ready for bed."

"Okay, Noah. Pleasant dreams."

"Uh, yeah. 'Night, Mom."


	15. Gay Agenda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Labor Day and setting the gay agenda.

Somehow it becomes Puck's job to put the potato salad and dip in the Hudmel refrigerator while his mom and Hannah head straight out to the backyard. Puck rolls his eyes and sets about finding a place for the food, Finn leaning on the counter.

“You doing ok, man?” Finn says, with no preamble. “You look...tired.”

“I am tired,” Puck snorts. “I get up at 5 am six days a week.”

“Yeah, but you always look that kind of tired,” Finn answers. “This is different. You look, like, tired in your bones.”

Puck purses his lips and shrugs. “I dunno. Guess I hadn’t noticed.”

“I know this is probably the stupidest question ever, so you can just tell me to go to hell, but you need to talk about anything?”

“Um. I don’t think so?” Puck offers. “I don’t know, I can only be so self-aware, dude.” He grins.

Finn returns Puck’s smile and says, “Ok, cool. Didn’t want to intrude. Just, sometimes I get a feeling about things, you know? Usually wrong, but doesn’t hurt to ask, I guess. Anyway...go, enjoy the cookout, please, before my mom hauls out the damn boombox, will you?”

“Boombox? That does not sound promising.” Puck plucks a can of pop out of the refrigerator. “And, dude, just ‘cause you’re sometimes wrong doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take it seriously.”

Finn just smiles again and shrugs, then steers Puck in the direction of the backyard.

Kurt's leaning against the rail of the deck, his back to the house, and Puck steps up behind him, hands on Kurt's hips.

"Hey."

Kurt turns and smiles. "Hello, stranger." He straightens and slides his hands over Puck's forearms, then leans forward, pressing his lips to Puck's. Puck parts his lips slightly, letting his tongue barely brush against Kurt's lips before pulling back.

A small part of Puck expects something, some reaction. Sure, Finn's seen them kiss, and they've not kept their hands to themselves that well around their respective families, but Puck knows that kissing is a little different. Especially kissing like they're kissing, familiar but almost simmering. It's pleasantly liberating that there's nothing. Carole and Rina keep talking, Burt keeps throwing a football with Hannah and Finn. Kurt grins at him, almost like he knows what Puck's thinking, and kisses him again before sliding sideways and leaning against Puck's side.

"What did you bring?"

"Potato salad, dip, chips, and I think my mom brought more hot dogs."

"I swear the hot dogs _are_ kosher," Kurt protests mildly.

"Oh yeah?" Puck challenges.

"God, I hope the ones called _Hebrew National_ are," Kurt laughs.

"Okay, okay, good point," Puck joins in the laughter.

"You boys come toss the Frisbee with us," Burt calls.

"Oh, no." Puck clatters down the stairs, Kurt behind him. "Watch out, Kurt's got a mean arm."

"You're just bitter that I trounced you so thoroughly," Kurt replies with a sniff, then picks up one of the discs and flings it across the entire backyard–straight into Finn's surprised grasp. "See? It's not hard."

"Ouch." Finn shakes his hand. "Damn, Kurt."

"He did pretty much trounce me at disc golf," Puck admits.

"It was fun," Kurt shrugs. "We should see if there's a course closer."

"Are you talking about those weird things with the chains and baskets?"

"I suppose they could be characterized that way, yes."

"Yeah, then there's a course at Ottawa Park. And maybe down in Fort Shawnee." Finn shrugs. "I kinda always wondered what those were for."

"Now you know," Puck replies, flinging one of the discs in Hannah's direction.

Before too long, Carole's asking Burt to start the hamburgers, and Finn's been dispatched to go pick up (more) ice cream.

"Boys?" Carole calls out from her seat next to Rina. "Would you two mind starting to bring out the condiments?"

"Sure," Puck nods, and Kurt nods as well. Kurt drops the discs next to the stairs and heads inside, Puck sliding the door firmly closed behind them. "That was awfully nice of her."

"Oh?" Kurt's smiling, leaning against the wall.

"You don't think so?" Puck puts his hand just above Kurt's shoulder, leans in, and grins.

"Maybe you should demonstrate your reasoning."

"Oh?" Puck curls his other hand onto Kurt's hip, pulling him close, and leans his upper body to press his forehead against Kurt's. "Like this?" He brushes his mouth lightly over Kurt's, and Kurt's eyes flutter, pinning him when he pulls away.

"Now who's a tease?" Kurt breathes.

"I thought you said it wasn't teasing if there was follow-through?" Puck puts his mouth to Kurt's again, this time pressing hard, Kurt's lips yielding almost immediately as Puck darts his tongue into Kurt's mouth. Kurt's hand rests on the back of Puck's neck, preventing him from pulling away, which Puck doesn't particularly want to do anyway, his other hand mirroring Puck's, resting on Puck's hip.

As they continue kissing, Puck carefully untucks Kurt's shirt, sliding his fingers slowly under it until his palm is flat against Kurt's warm skin. Kurt pushes into the touch, his fingers curling against Puck's scalp. Puck's lost track of how long they've been kissing when he feels Kurt's fingers working on the button on his jeans, then slipping inside his jeans, into his underwear, and wrapping loosely around Puck's cock.

Puck does break their kiss, turning his head barely to the side. "Fuck, Kurt," he breathes, and a small part of his brain says that this is not the best place for this. He wraps both arms around Kurt and slides them down the wall and around the corner, so that they're at least not visible through the sliding glass door.

"Mmm," Kurt responds, reattaching his lips to Puck's and grasping Puck more firmly. He moves his hand up and down slowly, and Puck jerks his hips forward, pressing himself into Kurt and both of them into the wall. Kurt's thumb toys with the top of Puck's cock, dipping into the slit and back out, one finger circling just under the head with a featherlight touch. Kurt's hand is still holding Puck's head firmly, and then Kurt straightens, spinning them around and pushing Puck against the wall, switching their places.

Puck whimpers as Kurt's hand moves quicker, light but still firm, and Kurt's mouth moves away from Puck's, kissing a trail up his jawline and Puck's suddenly aware of the roughness scraping his cheek and he groans. _Fuck_. Kurt obviously remembers Puck's reaction, and clearly is willing to go unshaven for a few days. Puck moves his hand to cup Kurt's face, reveling in the wiry scruff contrasting with Kurt's smooth skin. Kurt tilts his head into Puck's hand, giving Puck a lazy, smug smile, still working his hand over Puck's erection. Puck knows he won't last long, not with the look Kurt's giving him, and Puck buries his face in Kurt's neck, drawing in his smell. Kurt's fingers tighten around him, pumping faster, and Puck lets out a strangled groan as he comes into Kurt's hand. He sags against the wall, Kurt's other hand under his shoulder. Kurt carefully cleans his own hand, making Puck whimper again, and then fastens Puck's jeans before kissing him slowly, holding Puck's hand against his cheek.

"You're so fucking hot," Puck murmurs, scraping his own cheek against Kurt's. "The things you do to me…"

There's a scraping noise in the hall, and they both straighten, separating slightly but not removing their eyes from each other. A moment later, Finn walks in, depositing the ice cream into the freezer before turning to them with a smile. "Hey, guys."

"Finn," Kurt says calmly, nodding. "No trouble finding the ice cream?"

"I had to get mint chocolate chip instead of regular chocolate chip, but Mom likes it almost as much."

Kurt nods and moves to the refrigerator. "We should, uh, get that stuff out there," he says to Puck, who moves towards him, holding his hands out for the ketchup, mustard, and relish.

"Yeah. Good plan." Puck loads up his arms and walks out the sliding glass door behind Kurt, already contemplating how he can get Kurt alone again, and get his hands on him.

Once back outside, Burt commandeers Kurt into taking charge of the hot dogs, and Puck finds himself pressed into service bringing load after load of food, plates, and utensils onto the back deck. Carole's fixed even more food than she did for the brunch, and Puck exchanges a grin with Finn and Kurt both at the size of the spread.

"I think we should all rest for a bit before we have dessert," Carole suggests after most of the food has been consumed (including the oh-so-unkosher barbecue beans). "Rina, you want to see what's on television while the kids clean up?"

"Sure." Puck's mom gets up and fixes Hannah with a look. "That means you, too. You can collect all the trash while the boys take care of the other stuff."

"Yes, Mom," Hannah sighs, and Puck only has to prod her twice before she starts pitching in.

"I'm gonna take a nap."

"I'm going to find Mom."

"I was going to rest, too. You boys keep an eye on the coals?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Sure thing."

Kurt grins and turns to Puck. "No, _that_ was nice of them."

Puck chuckles. "C'mere." He drops into a chair and Kurt sits on top of his legs. Puck places sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down Kurt's jaw, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist when Kurt squirms.

"Stop," Kurt giggles. "I'll have to… uh. Forego shaving more often."

"Mmm-hmm," Puck agrees. "You should." He runs his tongue slowly over Kurt's cheek, ignoring Kurt's attempts to turn his face away. "Dead sexy."

Kurt buries his face in Puck's neck and then slowly drags his cheek up Puck's neck and across his cheek. "Oh?"

"Yeah." Puck slides one hand back to the front of Kurt's pants, cupping the bulge in them. "But." He kisses Kurt again, parting Kurt's lips with an insistent tongue. "Right now." Another kiss. "Something else." He squeezes his hand, and Kurt presses his lips together and pushes up with his hips.

"Right here?" he squeaks after a minute.

"Right here," Puck confirms. "No one else is around. It smells good." Puck puts his face to Kurt's and inhales. "You smell good. And you're gonna come for me." He smirks at Kurt, who reddens at the very last sentence.

Kurt runs his tongue along his lips and nods, reaching for his pants and unfastening them slowly, eyes on Puck the entire time. Eventually, he frees his erection, and Puck reaches for it immediately, palming it. Kurt hisses a little, drawing his breath. "Puck…"

"Mmmhmm." Puck murmurs, lips against Kurt's cheek. "S'right." He curls his fingers around Kurt's cock and pumps it. "Not gonna take long, are you?" He chuckles, hand spreading the already-leaking fluid around.

"No." Kurt shakes his head, pressing himself into Puck's hand. "Faster," he gasps out as Puck slows his hand.

"Okay," Puck nods, moving his hand more quickly, increasing the pressure, and moves his mouth back to Kurt's. Kurt pushes his tongue into Puck's mouth immediately, his hips rolling towards Puck's hand. Puck pulls Kurt closer with his arm and his fingers tighten around Kurt, and Puck feels Kurt stiffen, his muscles clenching and contracting underneath Puck's arm. Another few seconds, and Kurt pulls his mouth from Puck's, his head falling back as he moans, coming into Puck's hand.

Puck closes the distance between their mouths again as Kurt slides against him, then brings his hand up to his mouth. Kurt watches him closely and smiles, then stands and pulls himself back together. "That was better than a nap," Kurt says after a moment, grinning.

"Yeah it was," Puck laughs. He stands, too, and pulls Kurt into a hug, holding him tightly for a long moment. "Just making sure you worked up an appetite for dessert," he whispers into Kurt's ear, and Kurt giggles.

They sit on the stairs of the deck, twirling a disc on their fingers, until the others reemerge from the house, Burt and Finn laden with ice cream, Carole carrying an enormous peach-plum cobbler. "Thanks for staying out here with the coals," Burt says with a nod. "Hope it wasn't too boring."

"It was fine, Dad," Kurt assures him, turning to help Carole dish the cobbler. Finn stands stock-still behind Burt with a bright red face, and Puck raises an eyebrow. Finn clamps a hand over his mouth, and Puck bites the inside of his cheek to keep from otherwise reacting. He supposes that by the time he thought that he hoped Finn nor Burt were looking out their windows, it was already too late.

"Are you okay, Finn?" Rina says after a moment, and Finn coughs.

"Yeah, uh. Bug. In my throat. Awful." He coughs a few more times, and Puck turns to look away to keep himself from laughing. He's pretty sure Kurt would be mortified; Puck's not exactly embarrassed, but yeah, he'd prefer if Finn hadn't seen anything, either.

"So, you two gave me an idea," Burt says with a nod, "maybe we should all go over and try this disc golf thing. We can clean up the rest of this later."

"Sounds cool," Finn nods. "We can just go over to Ottawa Park, right?"

"It does sound like fun," Carole agrees. "Rina, Hannah, what do you think?"

"Cool!" Hannah exclaims, and Rina nods.

"Great. You two can show us the ropes, so to speak."

Kurt ends up jamming everyone into his car for the ten minute ride, and Puck's more than a little smug that no one even tries to sit shotgun, even though he ends up being the last person to climb inside. Finn, Hannah, and Burt squeeze into the very back, and his mom and Carole sit in the middle. It takes a few minutes to figure out where to start, and for everyone to play through a hole, but by the time they've reached the fourth hole, the others have given up on winning against Kurt.

Kurt just shrugs and smiles smugly, firing off the disc with precision, and he does indeed trounce them all soundly. Burt's smile is nearly as smug, and Finn just looks astonished. Puck has to walk with his hands in his pockets when he's not throwing the disc, and definitely has to stop himself from kissing Kurt a time or two.

Sometimes, Lima really sucks.

Once they return to the Hudmel household, Puck's mom decides it's time for them to go home, and Puck doesn't even make it back inside the house, forcing him to say good-bye to Kurt on the porch as people walk down the street and drive by. He resists the urge to glare at… the world, really, and Kurt takes his hand, squeezing it. "Be good."

"I'm always good," Puck says with a grin, and then launches himself over the railing and climbs in his mom's car.

Sometimes, saying good night is like ripping off a band-aid.

 

Finn is standing on the deck scrubbing the crud off the grill when Kurt comes back out through the sliding glass door.

“Oh, hey, Kurt,” Finn says, waving with the Brillo pad. “You and Puck have a nice time tonight?”

“Mmmhmm,” Kurt replies with a nod, smiling slightly. “You want me to grab the grill utensils?”

“Sure, man, thanks,” Finn says, then pauses in his scrubbing. “So, everything ok with Puck? I mean, I know everything’s not totally ok with the whole situation, but he seems kinda bone-tired. Like, really weary.”

Kurt tilts his head one way and then the other. “It’s... you and I both know that he’s working not for extra movies, but to help out his mom, at least partially. And then add in school and glee club and football, plus everything else?” Kurt shrugs. “Wouldn’t you be tired?”

“I’m tired just thinking about it,” Finn sighs. “There’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep that up, Kurt.”

“I know,” Kurt admits with a frown. “But would you like to be the one to convince him?”

Finn snorts a little laugh and flashes the half-smile Kurt has come to know well. “Not really, no. I tried talking to him, but, well, he’s still Puck.”

“Yes, well,” Kurt sighs, managing to make it both exasperated and fond at the same time. “He is.”

“So--and please don’t get pissed at me for asking this, ok?--how are you holding up with all of this?”

Kurt rolls his eyes a little at the first part of Finn’s questions, but smiles and then shrugs. “I–I don’t know. I’m just trying to take it as it comes. I don’t want to wish away this last year, as much as I, well, I do.” He shakes his head, as if to clear it.

Finn smiles a little sadly. “It’s so different for you guys. I know you’re not running away from us, and I understand why you want to leave, but...I kind of want this year to last as long as possible.”

“I know,” Kurt sighs. “Part of me wants the same thing. The rest of me just wants to let my guard down.”

“I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you don’t walk around just hating everybody sometimes. You’re just...man, I walk around hating them sometimes, and I’m not even the one who’s having to hide anything.”

“I guess it’s like anything–you do what you have to do.” Kurt smiles a little. “People as a group are generally the issue rather than specific individuals, you know? There are always exceptionally awful people to break that rule, but. I try to remember it.”

“People really suck sometimes,” Finn says. “Do you really think it’s that much better somewhere else?” He looks a little wistful, and Kurt remembers that Finn never was the one who wanted to go that far from home.

“Part of it is anonymity. I can drive for forty-five minutes on 75 and find myself in a town that may be equally intolerant of its own, but the guy passing through? He’s fine. But, yes. I walked around New York City without... I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t mind standing out for a lot of things, but yes, it was nice to _not_ stand out.”

“I’d probably have to move to some place to New York to find a place where I do stand out,” Finn says, smiling wryly. “I’m just so...Lima, you know? I know it sucks for you guys, but I sometimes envy...” Finn trails off and looks away.

“What?” Kurt asks curiously. “Not everyone has to have the same dreams, Finn. One dream isn’t better than another.”

“Yeah, but some are bigger, aren’t they?” Finn says, still staring out across the lawn. “And what does it say about somebody who doesn’t even want to dream big?”

“That he or she will find himself or herself much more content much more easily,” Kurt answers. “Instead of constantly searching.”

“Hey, Kurt? Can I ask you something and you tell me the truth about it?” Finn asks.

“I’ll try,” Kurt says with a nod.

“Do you really think I’m gonna end up in Lima forever? Like how Rachel thinks I am?”

“No.” Kurt’s answer is immediate and the confidence with which he answers surprises even him a little. “I don’t know where you’ll be, Finn, but.” Kurt pauses, gathering his thoughts. “You–you’re going to follow. I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you’ll find your way that way. I think.”

“I really have no idea what that means, but, thanks,” Finn says, finally looking over at Kurt and giving him the warmest smile he can muster. “If you think I’m getting out of here, well, it’s probably true, then.”

“Besides, I have all these plans for my nieces and/or nephews,” Kurt adds, “and they’d be hard to implement if a couple of plane rides were required every time I wanted to see them.”

Finn grins and this time, he’s the one who rolls his eyes. “Cart ahead of the horse, bro,” Finn says. “Pretty sure I’m not popping out any babies any time soon. Or, you know, ever. By myself, I mean.”

Kurt laughs. “If you do, at least you’ll be able to sell your story to the National Enquirer. But I am confident that you will not deprive me of the joy of spoiling children that are not mine, and then returning them to you, full of sugar and bad language.”

“Bad language? I guess they’ll be learning that part from Puck, huh?”

Kurt ducks his head and feels his cheeks redden. “You doubt my ability to provide the sugar?” he finally responds.

“They’ll have you for the sugar, Puck for the language, and just try to send them home bathed, ok? My imaginary wife and I don’t like stinky kids.”

“Oh, no, bathing is a parental activity. We’ll throw them in the lake or pool, though. Good enough?”

Finn is laughing for real now. “Garden hose, maybe? Compromise? Wait...do they have garden hoses in New York City?”

“Fire hydrants.”

“Oh, yeah. You can let them run through that, like the kids on TV. My imaginary wife and I approve.”

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” Kurt says dryly. “I would hate as an uncle to do anything that you wouldn’t approve of. No, wait, actually,” Kurt smirks. “I wouldn’t really care, would I?”

Finn just pats his brother on the back affectionately. “My stinky kids and I will just have to take what we get, I guess.”

“Yes, yes you will,” Kurt says, mock-haughtily, and picks up the remainder of the stuff to take inside.

 

Even though it's late for him, Puck can't seem to fall asleep, and he finally sits in front of his computer, composing a short email to Kurt.

 _And I wanted you to know…<http://www.bluestraveler.com/albums/straight-on-till-morning/yours/>_

 _I don't expect a reply. But it's true._

He hits send and grabs his phone, sending a text.

 _Check ur email. xx_

He sets his phone down and exhales, then climbs back into bed. He falls asleep almost immediately.

 

Kurt can't stop listening to the song.

He's thinking about going to bed when the text message comes, and he immediately checks his email and then clicks on the [link](http://www.bluestraveler.com/albums/straight-on-till-morning/yours/).

The first time through, he reads the lyrics carefully.

Then he feels his chest ache, the second time.

By the third time, tears fall from his eyes, unchecked.

He's been so hesitant, so afraid. So scared of doing it wrong, of getting hurt.

But lying in his bed, song on repeat, earbuds in, he knows, deep in his brain, that it's too late.

If anyone or anything were to take Puck away from him now, he'd be utterly lost.

He still doesn't understand, not the way that everyone else seems to intuitively know. In love or not in love. He always thought there would be a sign.

Maybe there's no sign. Maybe there's no instant.

Maybe it's just the pure physical pain at the thought of not having Puck.

The thought of somehow hurting Puck.

The thought that he might be hurting Puck, while he figures all of this out.

It's an unbearable ache, and he finds another song on his phone.

Does he really not know love at all? Or is he letting fear win?

He's stumbling around in the dark, but his eyes are starting to adjust.

 

Puck almost doesn't remember sending Kurt the text or the email. Kurt's only reply was two letters texted almost an hour after Puck fell asleep– _xx_.

Because of the holiday, there's a delivery in the middle of his two and a half hours at work, and he's running seriously late by the time he ducks into the bathroom and changes clothes. He throws his manager a smile of appreciation as she passes him the two cups of coffee and then heads out the door.

Kurt looks as tired as Puck feels, and they exchange sympathetic glances over their respective cups of coffee before Kurt takes Puck's hand and drives towards school–the long way.

"We're already late," Kurt offers at Puck's inquisitive look. "We might as well finish our coffee before we get marked tardy."

"Good point." Puck rests his head against the seat back. "We had a stupid delivery this morning. Remind me never to work opening after a holiday again."

"Ugh," Kurt makes a face and nods. "I forgot about the PFLAG meeting, so I spent the last hour attempting to devise an agenda."

"That's today? Oh, right."

"Yes, so I had to set the gay agenda," Kurt says wryly.

Puck laughs. "Take over the world, right? 'Cause that's the one I signed up for."

The parking lot's deserted by the time they pull into the lot, five minutes past the bell, and they each hurry to class.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Puckerman. I assume you're ready to turn in your essay?"

"Sorry, ma'am. Yes." Puck fumbles with his bags, still carrying his clothes around as well, and withdraws his essay, taking it up to the teacher's desk. She stops him as class ends.

"I can withhold marking your tardy if you have a legitimate excuse, Mr. Puckerman."

"I got held up at work," Puck explains. "Normally the delivery comes on Monday afternoons, but because of the holiday, the guy came at seven, in the middle of shift change at the hospital, so, yeah. I got out late."

"You go to work in the morning before school?"

"Uh. Yes, ma'am. At Starbucks."

She purses her lips. "I've heard stories about you, Mr. Puckerman, but none of them have matched the young man in my class. Your tardy won't be marked. If you're late in the future, please ask your manager to sign something."

"Uh. Thanks. Really. Thank you." Puck hurries out of the room before she can change her mind, because he can't remember the last time a teacher that wasn't Schue gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Ms. Pillsbury has set up for the PFLAG meeting in a classroom near her office, and everyone in the choir room troops over to it when the bell rings at the end of fourth period, sweaty and laughing from more dancing. Finn carries three plates of food, and Puck absently wonders how Carole finds the time to cook so often.

David Karofsky is already in the room, looking nervous, along with three kids that look so tiny Puck's sure they must be freshmen. Another five kids, a mix of sophomores and juniors, come in before the bell rings, and then they all grab seats, the glee club kids purposely sitting in between and beside some of the others.

"Well, as you all know, I'm Ms. Pillsbury, and I'll be attending these meetings, but we're really going to leave the running of the club up to all of you. Kurt?"

Kurt flashes a smile at Ms. Pillsbury and everyone's attention turns towards him. Puck takes the chance to really look at him, because the morning was hurried and the physics lecture a little confusing even with most of their attention.

He's wearing a khaki suit with a bright red t-shirt underneath it and, Puck notes with a pleased smirk, a dark purple print scarf around his neck. He's added a straw hat during the walk from the choir room to the meeting (and Puck wonders how he managed that, really), and the white grosgrain ribbon around it matches the white loafers on his feet.

Puck feels a little underdressed, like he's not really advancing the gay agenda very well. He frowns for a minute. At least he's not wearing a striped boxy polo shirt.

"Hello." Kurt smiles, a little nervously. "So, I thought we'd start by introducing ourselves. Your name–first name only is fine, if you prefer–and if you'd like to say what year you are, why you're here, anything like that." He exhales and turns to his left, where Rachel is sitting. "Rachel, why don't you start?"

"Hi!" Rachel beams. "For those of you that don't know me, I'm Rachel Berry. I'm a senior, and I'm here because I have two gay dads. And, of course, I have several friends who consider themselves GBLTQ." She finishes with a grin and a little shrug.

Most of the first half of the room introduces themselves at some length, and Puck starts to feel a little uncomfortable. Then it's Finn's turn. "Hi." He smiles. "I'm Finn." Then he turns to look at the freshman sitting next to him. "Your turn."

There are a few more lengthy introductions, but there are some simple ones interspersed, including both Santana's and Brittany's. Then it's Puck's turn. "Yo." He nods once. "I'm Puck." He turns and raises an eyebrow at Mike, who nods.

"I'm Mike," he says, and turns to Karofsky.

"I'm David Karofsky. I'm a senior, and uh, I'm here for a lot of reasons." He chews on his lip and plays with the sleeve of his jacket. "Uh, that's it."

The introductions continue around the room until they come back to Kurt. "Hello again. I'm Kurt, and I'm here for many reasons, but first and foremost, because I'm gay." It's the first time anyone in the room has explicitly admitted to being GLBTQ during the meeting, and Puck notices a few of the freshmen have wide eyes. Kurt smiles gently and doesn't force them to meet his eyes. "And yes, it gets easier every time you say it."

There's a little nervous laughter, and Kurt scans the room with his eyes. "Would you tell us?" one of the wide-eyed freshmen asks. "About… coming out?"

Kurt blinks and looks surprised. "If… you really want to hear it?" There are nods and noises of agreement around the room, so Kurt shrugs and begins. "There was a time I… tried to deny I was gay." There's gentle laughter around the room, and Kurt smirks. "I know, I know. And I've known for a very long time. A _very_ long time. But about two years ago, I started coming out." He turns and grins at Mercedes. "Come here, 'Cedes."

Mercedes gets up and crosses the room, and Kurt stands, giving her a one-armed hug. "Mercedes was actually the first person I ever told. It was terrifying. After it was over, though, I felt… freer. A little lighter. Still. One person is not the world." Kurt gives Mercedes a full hug, and then she sits down.

Kurt tilts his head inquisitively. "How many of you actually know when I came out to my dad?"

There's a lot of shaking of heads, but no raised hands, not even Finn's, so Puck keeps his down.

"Well. After my brief but brilliant performance as kicker for the McKinley football team, which included dancing to 'Single Ladies,' my father was, as you might imagine, quite proud. And as I was getting ready for bed that night, I just–told him. He told me he'd known since I was three." Kurt smiles wryly. "That may have been the last person I told explicitly. In fact, I distinctly remember denying it flat-out a week or so before that." He shoots a look at Finn, who laughs.

"Yeah, bro, I didn't believe you."

Kurt rolls his eyes and smiles. "Of course not. But anyway. Once I told my dad, I stopped denying it, anyway. It wasn't long before I was firmly known as 'that gay kid.' I can't imagine why." He shrugs to laughter. "But not everyone that's gay is going to be, well. A walking stereotype."

One of the sophomores, a girl, speaks up. "My brother played football and ran track, and everyone always talked about how his girlfriends would be really lucky. No one ever thought he was gay." She shrugs. "But now that he's out people claim they suspected all along. I know they didn't. Why would they say that?"

"I think sometimes people have that… what is it called again?" Finn looks helplessly at Rachel and then Kurt. "That diss thing?"

"Cognitive dissonance?" Rachel supplies.

"Yeah, that! Thanks, Rach." Finn grins. "They change their own memories to make them fit what they want to think now."

"Yeah, I went back and looked at our freshman yearbook over the summer," Tina confesses, "and there are a lot of things I thought I remembered about all of us that just weren't true." She shrugs with a smile.

The conversation turns to ways for allies to offer support, and Karofsky clears his throat. "Um, back in the spring, Santana had me watch all these videos, the It Gets Better project. There are a lot of them. Pixar, all these singing groups, a lot of celebrities, even the President."

"And they talk about the Trevor Project," Santana adds. "There's a website– just the Trevor Project, dot org–and a toll-free number, too. It's suicide prevention for GLBTQ teens and young adults," she explains quietly.

"Our suicide statistics aren't pretty," Kurt continues. "GLBTQ youth are two to three times as likely to attempt suicide as our straight peers. One of the most important things that allies can do is make sure your friends, gay or straight, know that you are to listen to them, no matter what. No judgment." Kurt looks around the room, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Give them the chance to open the closet door. If they want to. Don't nail it shut. Don't force it open or kick it down, either."

There's silence in the room for a long moment before the bell rings, and everyone quietly stands, some grabbing more food before leaving. Puck stands awkwardly, hands jammed into his pockets, because damn, he's proud of Kurt right now. The room slowly empties, and Puck thinks that he's really gotten good at stalling as he helps put the chairs away and clear the food off the table. Finally, Karofsky walks off with Ms. Pillsbury, and Kurt walks down the hall with him towards the choir room.

"You didn't eat."

"I was nervous," Kurt admits.

"You were awesome. You did great. Better than great." Puck smiles and leans against the doorframe. "Let's go get dinner at Golden Corral or something. All you can eat."

"Mmm. Good idea." Kurt smiles. "I'll meet you here after practice."

"'Kay. Be good."

"I'm always good."

 

Practice is brutal. Their first game is on Friday and for those of the team, like Puck, who haven't been coming to optional practices, Tuesday is their first practice in full pads. Beiste ends the practice with five laps in full gear, and Puck practically empties a water bottle straight into his mouth before heading to the shower.

Finn's still in the shower when Puck finishes, but everyone else is almost out the door, and Puck dresses quickly. He shoulders his bags and makes sure he's emptied his locker when Finn comes around the corner finally. "You run out of water finally?"

"Haha. The water pressure's better here than at home. It's all environmentally-friendly or something at home."

Puck snorts."Later, dude."

"Later."

Kurt's waiting in the parking lot, perched on his back bumper, wearing the same outfit from earlier minus the hat and the suit jacket. Intellectually, Puck knows Kurt's been at his dad's shop working most of the afternoon, but there's literally not a hair out of place. _How does he manage that?_

Kurt hops down as Puck approaches. "How was practice?"

"Awful. Work?"

"Hot and boring. Why can't someone in Lima do something exciting when they ruin their car?"

"Like rip out their transmission?"

"Exactly!" Kurt flips the air conditioning to high and looks around the parking lot, then leans over, giving Puck a quick kiss. "Dinner?"

"Yes. Fuck, I'm starving."

"Me, too. All you can eat sounds like a brilliant plan right now." Kurt's silent for a moment before continuing. "You really think the meeting went well?"

"Yeah," Puck assures him. "It did. Hell, there were twenty-one people there. That alone was great. But I meant it. You were awesome. Even if we didn't take over the world yet."

"Today, McKinley, tomorrow the world," Kurt sighs with a grin.

"Today for you, tomorrow for me!" They laugh together as Puck quotes the movie. "Did you get marked tardy?"

Kurt snorts. "That would require the teacher to notice I was in the class, apparently. There are at least thirty of us and I don't think she noticed that I came in, or that I hadn't been there. You?"

Puck shakes his head. "No. It was kind of weird. Great, but still pretty weird."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I turned in my essay when I got there, and then she stopped me and asked why I was late, so I told her, and she said something about hearing stories about me but they didn't seem to be true and the worst part is now I feel a little bad about skipping first period the other day." Puck frowns and makes a face. "What's with that?"

"Poor Puck," Kurt laughs.

"I know!" Puck snorts as they pull into the parking lot. "Ohh, they've got steak 'cause it's dinnertime."

"Pretty sure they also have ham and maybe pork chops," Kurt teases, and Puck grins.

"Awesome."

The restaurant is surprisingly empty, and the two each fill a pair of plates on their first trip through the line.

"Hungry, boys?" the server asks, bringing their drinks.

"Pretty much always," Puck answers.

"Well, you two enjoy."

"Thank you."

"So," Kurt asks between bites, "what should we do at the next meeting?"

"Maybe show some of the It Gets Better videos? Some of them are really well-done. Okay, and some of them are really cheesy, too, but." Puck shrugs.

"Woody gets me every time," Kurt confesses.

They're eating dessert when Puck notices an odd expression on Kurt's face. "What? Do I have chocolate on my chin?"

Kurt visibly starts. "What? No. No, no. Just thinking."

"Don't hurt yourself." Puck flashes a smile, and Kurt laughs for a few seconds.

"I'll try not."

They're nearly back to Kurt's house when he makes a face, swearing.

"What's wrong?"

"I completely forgot, Finn's home."

"I thought it was Finnchel time on Tuesdays."

"Yeah, I thought so too, but he texted me while I was at work, I just forgot until now."

"Well." Puck sighs. "I guess we can hang out with Finn. Unless you'd rather me go on home."

"No," Kurt says quickly. "I mean, unless you need to or something."

"No, I'm good," Puck replies just as quickly.

"Finn?" Kurt calls as soon as they walk in through the garage door.

"In the living room," comes the answer. "You want some popcorn."

Kurt and Puck groan in unison. "Stuffed," Puck says, sitting in the recliner.

"Very stuffed." Kurt slides in front of the recliner, and Puck runs his hand gently through Kurt's hair.

"What'd you have for dinner?"

"Golden Corral."

"Oh, man, I bet that was awesome. I just had Burger King."

"Seriously? People voluntarily eat there?"

"Rachel likes their veggie burger."

"Yeah, well. We had steak. And pork chops."

"And fried chicken, and mashed potatoes and gravy."

"Not to mention the banana pudding and the ice cream."

Finn groans. "You two are mean. Very mean." He tosses popcorn in their direction, which makes Kurt shriek before pelting it back at him.

Finn lumbers to his feet, holding the bowl threateningly over Kurt's head. "No, no, we'll be good!" Kurt laughs, trying to cover his head.

Finn tilts the bowl, a few kernels spilling out, and Puck dives forward, bracing himself against the coffee table while Kurt cowers underneath, and then Puck winces as the kernels bounce off his back, tiny and surprisingly sharp.

"Finn!" Kurt and Puck exclaim together, and Finn just bursts into laughter as Puck straightens, shaking the layer of popcorn off his back. Puck pulls Kurt to his feet as they both step free of the popcorn mountain, which has a back-shaped void in the middle of it.

"I guess I should vacuum that up."

"Yes, you should." Kurt holds on to Puck's hand, seemingly poised for something, and when Finn walks out of the room to grab the vacuum, Puck puts it together. Kurt pulls Puck to the couch and manages to get them both comfortably on the couch, grab the remote, and change the channel, all before Finn gets back in the room.

"Hey," he frowns at the television, and then turns to frown at them on the couch. "Hey!"

"I'm sorry, did you need something?" Kurt asks sweetly, and Finn just makes a face and vacuums up the popcorn.

Kurt has his legs thrown over Puck's, and when Finn's attention turns to other things, Kurt uses one finger to turn Puck's chin towards him. Puck's pretty sure Kurt meant to just kiss him softly, but Puck can't help pushing his tongue against Kurt's lips, waiting for them to part, and he puts his hand on the back of Kurt's neck, holding him in place. Kurt's lips finally fall open, his tongue pressing against Puck's and into Puck's mouth, and Puck waits as long as he possibly can before pulling away momentarily.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he mutters against Kurt's cheek, and Kurt nods slowly.

"I know the feeling."

Kurt leans his head against Puck's shoulder, and Puck wraps one arm around Kurt's waist, fingers splayed over the gentle rise and fall of Kurt's chest. Puck's not really sure what Finn was watching, but Kurt's landed it on one of the near-ubiquitous _Friends_ re-runs. "Ooh, it's the one where Chandler and Monica first get together."

"I love that scene."

"I like the later seasons better," Finn offers as he sits down in the recliner. "Or the first season. Hey, did you know Rachel's dads named her after the show?"

"Should we start calling you Ross, dude?"

Finn just huffs, and Puck can feel Kurt quietly laughing. Puck spends the remainder of the episode alternating between paying a little attention and softly kissing Kurt's hair and forehead. Kurt lets out a sigh after a few minutes and presses more firmly against Puck, his muscles relaxing and melting into Puck's own.

For tonight, that's enough.


	16. Blocked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys are not alone, ever, no matter how they try.

"Excellent work, Mr. Puckerman. An unusual approach, but you treated it with the appropriate gravity." Puck looks up from his paper, surprised, as his history teacher stops him on the way out on Wednesday morning.

"Thanks," he finally stutters out.

"Keep up the good work."

Puck nods, wide-eyed, and he must still look a little strange when he gets to physics, because Kurt immediately asks him what's wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," Puck admits, then puts the essay down on the table. "Just–I think that's the highest grade I've ever gotten in a history class."

Kurt glances at the paper then looks up and smiles. "See?"

"Yeah, yeah, gloat. I get to gloat after your next math test."

"Fair enough."

Fourth period is, for the first time in awhile, devoted to people studying rather than dancing. Kurt and Puck spend more of the period frowning than anything else, drawing graphs and working equations on motion. The bell's just rung when Tina walks over.

"Hey, are you two going to get your books this afternoon?"

Kurt nods. "That is the plan, yes."

"Let's go get lunch! I can drive, or we can ride with you, Kurt."

"Sure," Puck says with a shrug. "We can do that." Kurt gives him an undecipherable look, then agrees, packing up his bag.

"How about Subway?" Mike offers, walking over as well. "It's on the way and pretty quick."

They agree and traipse out to the parking lot, Mike and Tina climbing into the middle seats. Puck has the brief thought that at this rate, they should just get "Puck" embroidered on the passenger seat or something.

Kurt goes through the line first, knowing exactly what he wants, and Puck examines the chip choices, not really paying attention until after Mike and Tina have both ordered. Getting food with Kurt makes him think there should be only one ticket, an arm around Kurt, something, and distance is the best he can do to stem the impulse.

"What'd you get?" Mike asks when he sits down. "I got a Turkey & Bacon Avocado."

"Chicken & Bacon Ranch."

"Hey, so did Kurt," Tina says with a grin, and sure enough, when Puck looks across the table, their sandwiches are near identical.

"Mine has jalapenos," Kurt offers. "Also pickles."

Puck laughs and opens the top of his sandwich. "Check it."

Everyone else laughs. "Well, if we weren't both eating a footlong, I'd say we should have just gotten a footlong and split it. However… that would leave us both hungry."

"I envy how much a teenage boy can pack away," Tina says with a sigh, and Mike gives her a mock-affronted look.

"I'm not eating a footlong."

She waves her hand dismissively. "That's because you know tonight is China Buffet."

Mike frowns but doesn't contradict her, and apart from the weirdness of what is almost a double date, but not quite, lunch passes with all four of them in good spirits.

"So what classes are you taking?" Tina asks once they're back in the Navigator.

"French, a history class on French, and a class on the American musical."

"Ooh, me too! At two, right?"

"Yes." Kurt smiles. "That's the one I'm really looking forward too."

"I'm taking a different history course, ancient civilizations," Tina nods. "Mike's taking the same history course as me, plus a math class."

"Yeah, statistics."

"Math 159?"

"Yeah."

"At 2?"

"Hey, yeah. Cool. What else are you taking?"

"Music Cultures, something like that."

"Neat, dude."

"Yeah, I–turn there. Sorry," he tosses back at Mike. "Yeah, right, then left." Puck nods once as Kurt finds the right place, and then returns his attention to Mike. "I think the math book is supposed to be wicked expensive, though."

"How expensive?"

"Like, $200 expensive," Puck says with a frown, climbing out as Kurt kills the engine. Mike and Tina slide their hands together and Puck frowns more deeply, shoving his hands into his pockets and falling behind them on the sidewalk as Kurt takes the lead.

The bookstore is small and cramped, and the selection of used books is dismal, leaving Puck wondering if he would've done better to buy the books online. He finds a beat-up, overly highlighted copy of the math book at last, though, cheap, and there's a note that the materials for his music cultures class will be web-based. All he has to buy is a self-published study guide, for $15.

Grabbing one, he heads off to find Kurt, who's standing with a pile of books in his arms looking dubious.

"Geez, gonna buy the whole store?"

Kurt frowns. "I know. These bottom four books are all for history. This one at least looks interesting." Kurt holds up a book titled _Strike Up the Band: A New History of Musical Theatre_. "I've still got to find the books for French."

"Well. Let's go, then," Puck offers, grabbing two of the history books off Kurt's stack and placing him on his own. Kurt adds a French reader, a textbook, and a grammar review book to his stack with a sigh.

"Let's see how Tina and Mike made out, then."

Neither of them have as many individual titles as Kurt, though Mike's total cost is close. On the way to the school, Kurt puts in a CD, and the four of them sing along to Lady Gaga, much to Puck's own amusement. _Look how far I've come_.

Puck and Mike are nearly late for football practice, so they climb out in something of a hurry, and Puck sighs. The door's shut behind him when Kurt rolls down the window and calls out, "Be good, Puckerman."

"Oh, I am always good," Puck responds with a grin and a wave before disappearing inside the locker room.

 

Puck's staring at his English homework after dinner when he gives in with a sigh and picks up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey. What's up?"

"Trying to convince my father that, yes, I truly did pick the least expensive offerings amongst the used books available," Kurt says with a sigh. "On the plus side, he discovered that we technically can get reimbursed for up to $100 per quarter for books used for dual enrollment. So we just have to show Ms. Pillsbury our receipts and we should get a check in return."

"Sweet!"

"So what are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out what I did to my history teacher to get her to like me, so that I can do the same to my English teacher."

Kurt laughs. "Have you been taking notes in history?"

"Well, yeah, you told me it was easier than reading the textbook."

"There you have it–shut up, Finn, no one asked you–sorry, she probably is happy someone's taking her seriously."

"So I'd have to actually pay attention in English? I can't write as fast as Rachel, and she's all the time complaining about the teacher going too fast."

"Oh, Rachel's in your English class?" Kurt's voice gets farther away for a minute. "Hey, Finn, get your girlfriend to copy her English notes for Puck. Because she's already spending that much energy on them, why should they both write frantically? Sorry," Kurt's voice is louder again. "Maybe you should just smile winningly at your English teacher. Or accept her as a lost cause, because those grammar worksheets you showed me are just ridiculous, anyway."

"Yeah, but Ms. Pillsbury said if I can pull an A in first semester English, it might help me get to the audition portion."

"Hmm. Hang on, sorry, _no_ Finn, I haven't seen your rubber chicken. Why do you need a rubber chicken? Nevermind, I don't want to know. Okay, seriously, can we switch siblings?"

Puck laughs. "I don't know, Hannah'd probably like that."

"Of course she would." Puck can practically hear the smirk on Kurt's face. "What other assignments do you have for English, besides those ridiculous worksheets?"

"There's a paper a month. September is that whole dystopia thing, we have to read _1984_ or _Brave New World_ and write about three aspects where it mocks Utopian ideals." Puck sighs. "Whatever those are."

"Probably in Rachel's notes."

"Ohh, right. Yeah. Good point."

"Have you decided which book to read?"

"No. I guess I should do that, huh?"

"Or at least look up the pink monkey notes."

"What's that?"

"Ohh. That explains so much. Pink monkey notes are just the best thing ever. Online and free. Literary elements, chapter summaries, analysis. To be honest," Kurt's voice lowers. "I couldn't keep up with the reading at Dalton, so I stopped doing it and just read the pink monkey notes. I started doing better than when I actually read the book."

"Just pinkmonkeynotes.com?"

"Pinkmonkey.com. The only reason I did sign up for AP this year."

Puck laughs. "Okay. Sounds good. So get notes from Rachel, smile a little, and read pink monkey notes. I can do that."

"Exactly." Puck can hear Kurt moving around. "Hang on." He murmurs something on the other end, and Puck catches the end of it "..ay, Dad. Sorry." There's a sound of a door closing, and then Kurt exhales. "Finn convinced my dad to watch the game that's on tonight."

"What game?"

"You're asking me? Please. Something that starts with a P."

"Finn must be bored."

"Probably. Or exhausted. How was practice today?"

"Annoying. About half the guys did optional practices and she let them go thirty minutes earlier, so don't let Finn give you the poor exhausted quarterback routine."

"Ohh, he is so busted. He said practice ran late, he was late for dinner."

"Gee, I wonder what one Miss Rachel Berry might have to do with that."

Kurt giggles. "I'm sure she has everything to do with it. Ask her in English tomorrow."

"Oh, I just might," Puck assures him, chuckling, and then sighs. "I should probably actually work on this. And you probably have work to do."

"Yeah," Kurt agrees softly. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"I was counting on it," Puck says wryly. "Be good."

"I'm always good."

 

"So, Rachel Berry," Puck begins as they leave the English classroom. "Do you in fact have knowledge of the whereabouts of one Finn Hudson yesterday afternoon?" He smirks at her. "Rumor has it he was late for dinner, but I happen to know he was not, in fact, at football practice."

Rachel blushes a little and smacks Puck on the bicep. "I'm not sure it's good for anyone that you and Kurt are such good friends now," she says with a frown, then sighs and smiles reluctantly.

"Seriously, Rachel, you made Finn eat Burger King and then made him late for dinner. That's not cool." He grins at her outraged look. "I'm just looking out for him, that's all."

Rachel huffs and shakes his head. "Boys! I don't understand you. Any of you."

"You coming to practice today?" Puck nods towards the choir room. "It makes it harder on Sam and Mercedes both when you run off to wherever you run off to."

"Oh, I don't know." Rachel smooths her skirt nervously. "I suppose I could. It's just, I've been so worried about first semester grades for my applications, and…"

"Come dance," Puck says with a roll of his eyes, and steers Rachel into the room. "You need to relax." Puck steps in the door. "Look what I found," he announces. "She's actually going to stay in here today."

They end up slowing the dance down to half-time for the first half of the period, to get Rachel up to speed, then run through it with the music for the remainder.

"There's a lot we still need to fill in, obviously," Mike says at the end of the period, "but I think Schue will get the idea if we show it to him later today. Maybe we can start practicing in the auditorium tomorrow."

"Going home?" Finn asks Kurt as everyone starts to file out the door, and Puck looks up to catch Kurt's answer.

"No, not working today, it's not worth the drive." Kurt shrugs and falls into step with Mercedes as they walk down the hall. "I'll just stay here and work on English or something."

The twelve of them cluster around a few tables, and Mercedes starts writing lyrics to a song about her favorite tots. Sam volunteers to write the music, and there's a lot of laughter and smirking.

Puck's just pulling out his music theory book when Kurt raps on the door. "So, you think we can be good, or should I go study in the library?"

Puck laughs. "Maybe leave the door open if we're supposed to behave."

"Hmm. You probably have a point." Kurt swings the door farther open and walks in, dropping his bag onto a chair before sitting down beside it. "Don't mind me, I'll just be over here making things up about Flannery O'Connor and Eudora Welty."

"I'll be making up things about rhythmic and melodic motives, myself," Puck says with a sigh. "Oh, and tonal implications versus harmonic goals. I think."

"Have fun," Kurt says weakly, and Puck chuckles for a moment before turning back to his work.

The afternoon passes quickly, and Artie's the first one to arrive for glee club. "I wish I could take a picture," he says with a grin, and Puck looks up as he stacks his books.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'd take a picture of you two, all amicable, and then go back in time and show it to both of you on the first day of sophomore year."

Puck groans. "I was such a little shit."

"Yes, and now you're a big shit," Kurt says with a smirk. "I, however, was nearly as fabulous then as I am now." He laughs.

"Keep telling yourself that," Puck grins.

Schue enters the room with a broad smile. "So, I forgot to tell you our theme for this week. I'm hoping at least one of you might have something that will fit already prepared." He crosses to the whiteboard. "Fall." He underlines it for the emphasis. "It could be fall as in falling, or fall as in autumn." He beams around the room. "It's up to you how you choose to interpret it. Does anyone have a song that they think fits the theme? That way we can wrap up our theme on Monday."

"I believe I could perform, Mr. Schuester." No one is exactly surprised with Rachel volunteers and delivers a technically flawless performance of "A Little Fall of Rain." Puck's starting to wonder if Rachel's going to _only_ do Broadway numbers this year.

"Wonderful," Mr. Schue applauds her. "Does anyone else have an appropriate performance?"

"I've got something that could work," Sam offers, grabbing his guitar. "This is more like John Mayer's arrangement," he clarifies as he tunes. "But I think you'll still recognize it."

Sam's got the perfect voice for Tom Petty, and "Free Fallin'" drops naturally from lips and guitar. Schue nods at the end, impressed. "Excellent. Anyone else?"

When no one responds, he nods. "All right. Let's talk about Invitationals and what kind of songs we might want to do. I was thinking about something classic, like–"

"Actually," Tina breaks in, "we've been working on something we'd like to show you."

"We?"

"All of us," Mike explains. "It's not anywhere near finished or ready to perform, but I think you can get the general idea."

"Okay." Schue looks intrigued. "Let's hear it."

They all rise to their feet and start moving the chairs and piano out of the way, with a swift apology to Brad. They take their starting positions, and Mike starts the music.

Schue looks mildly interested in the first portion, Puck notes, but can't get a good view of Schue's face when they switch partners.

 _You've gotta let me go_

Kurt turns into Puck's arms perfectly, without even looking, and Puck knows that they're one of the best when it comes to the same-sex pairings. Sam's stiff enough as a dancer that Mike and Rachel are carrying some of his weight, and the pairing of Tina and Quinn should work, but somehow falls flat. Mercedes and Rachel are still fighting over who should lead. They move past Brittany and Santana, and Brittany grins as Santana smirks. Puck returns the smirk and Kurt nods with a smile.

The song comes to an end and they stop, breathing heavily, turning to Schue for his reaction.

"Wow, you guys. I can tell you've been working hard on that. I do think it could work for Invitationals, though maybe with a few changes." He looks down at his hands for a moment and Puck gets a bad feeling in his gut. "Finn, I think you and Puck should swap partners for the second half."

Puck's eyes narrow, and he can see Kurt's head snap up from the corner of his eye.

"What? Why?" Finn looks bewildered. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Look, I know what intent you guys have," Schue says, tone placating, "but don't you think everyone would be more… comfortable that way?"

"First of all," Kurt breaks in, voice icy. "It doesn't work with Finn leading. No offense," he says quickly, and Finn nods. "And Finn is enough taller than me that it would look ridiculous if I were to lead."

"Secondly, that was a real dickhead thing to say," Puck breaks in. "I'm pretty sure if anyone was uncomfortable, we would have figured that out last week. Before today."

"It's just…" Schue begins, and before he can finish, Kurt's picked up his bag, stalking out of the room. Puck can feel his jaw tighten, because he's pretty sure Kurt's retreating rather than let anyone see him upset. He exchanges a glance with Finn, and Finn hurries after him, leaving Puck to deal with Schue.

"Listen, Mr. Schuester." Puck steps closer. "We get it, okay? You've got a problem with boys acting sexy together. It's okay when it's two straight guys, but throw someone who's actually gay into the equation, and you're not down with it. Whatever. That makes it your problem. Not ours, not mine."

There are murmurs of agreement from behind him, and Brittany speaks up. "I'm bi, does that mean I shouldn't dance with anyone?"

Schue's eyes get really wide, and Puck thinks that Kurt's going to be sorry that he missed this.

"No. No, you're right," Schue holds up his hands in surrender. "If all of you are comfortable with who you're dancing with, I shouldn't have said anything." He sighs.

"We should meet in the auditorium tomorrow," Mike breaks in. "To help us start blocking everything out."

"Is everyone free Saturday afternoon?" Tina asks. "We could work on getting the rest of the choreography then."

There's a general chorus of agreement and Puck sighs. "I'll tell the Munsters," he agrees with a nod.

"Remember, everyone, songs that deal with autumn or falling," Rachel speaks up as she gathers her things and heads for the door, and there are general nods as everyone leaves quietly.

Puck waits until everyone else has left to pick up his own bag, still watching Schuester. "You owe him an apology," he says finally, as he's about to leave. "Technically you owe me one, too, but I guess I'm just used to people thinking I'm an asshole."

Puck considers trying to find Finn and Kurt, but he figures that waiting at the Navigator is a safe bet. He unlocks the door with the code, throws his stuff inside, and leans against the back bumper.

 

Kurt’s pretty sure that everyone in the choir room thinks he’s about to burst into tears, but the truth is, he knows that if he’d stayed any longer, he would have started yelling at Mr. Schuester, and experience has proven that he’s not one of the chosen few who can get away with that.

He slows when he gets a hallway or two away from the choir room, and leans against the wall, working his jaw. _How dare he?_

Finn is only a few steps behind Kurt, his own expression a mirror of Kurt’s anger.

“Hey Kurt,” Finn calls. “Are you ok? Mr. Schue was totally out of line in there.”

Kurt glances over, not having noticed Finn was following him. “I thought it was better to leave before I started yelling at him. That didn’t go over well the only other time I tried it.”

“That was uncool in there. We’ve been working hard on this. Doesn’t he think we’d have figured out by now if something bothered us?”

“Apparently not,” Kurt says dryly. “I admit to feeling a little guilt.” He smirks. “Mike was so very careful not to pair up anyone who was currently dating, and even most previous couples.”

‘“Don’t feel guilty about it, man. With the way glee clubs dates and breaks up, it’s hard to find combinations that don’t involved somebody who’s hooked up at some point.”

“We are rather incestuous,” Kurt muses, straightening from his position on the wall. “But no, apart from the desire to punch Schue in the face–or maybe the balls–I am fine.”

“Yeah,” Finn says, “I think that Puck might be in there taking care of that for you. He seemed pretty pissed, too.”

Kurt smiles. “Good.”

Finn grins back at Kurt, obviously glad to have lightened his mood.

 

Kurt comes walking up a few minutes later, a defiant lilt to his stride.

"You okay?"

"Other than a desire to punch Mr. Schuester's face? Yes."

Puck snorts. "Yeah, that would've been satisfying. Douchebag."

"Yes." Kurt sighs and opens his door. "You're invited to dinner, by the way." He holds up his phone in lieu of explanation.

"Hmm, what's for dinner?" Puck grins.

"Strata."

"Oh, well in that case, sure, I'll have to stay and eat."

Kurt laughs and rolls his eyes. "Right."

Carole's already home when they arrive, Finn pulling in just behind Kurt. "Hello, boys," she greets them as they pour into the kitchen. "Dinner'll be ready in about fifteen minutes. Kurt, your dad said to tell you he doesn't need you this weekend at all."

"Great, thanks," Kurt replies, nodding.

"You need any help, Mom?"

"You can wash the lettuce off, yes," Carole says with a smile. "Kurt, Noah, can you get drinks out and set the table."

"Sure thing, Mrs. H."

"Of course."

Burt's still not home when the oven dings, but Carole assures them that he said to go ahead and eat, and they do. "How was school today, boys?"

"Good," Finn says. "I got my English paper back, a B."

"Oh, good. How was your test, Kurt?"

Kurt shrugs. "I think it was okay."

"Anything else exciting happen today?" Finn's glance darts to Kurt and Puck, and then back to his plate. "Finn?"

Kurt sighs next to Puck and Puck can kind of understand.

"Mr. Schuester was just kind of a douchebag," Finn mumbles, stuffing a bite of strata into his mouth.

Carole's eyebrows go so high Puck wonders if they'll disappear into her hair. "Excuse me?"

"A douchebag," Finn says around his bite. "To Kurt. And Puck, too."

Carole turns to look at the other boys. "Really?"

"A bit, yes," Kurt allows.

"I took care of it," Puck asserts. "Well, and Brittany."

"Brittany?"

Puck grins. "Yeah, she just up and announces that she's bi, so maybe she shouldn't be dancing with anyone."

Kurt laughs and Finn chuckles, Carole looking a little confused. "Wait, he told you you shouldn't dance because you're gay?"

"No, he said I shouldn't dance with anyone but my brother. Because I'm gay."

"Right," Finn nods. "Which is stupid, because we've already choreographed a lot of it."

Carole nods slowly, still not understanding, Puck thinks, but she doesn't ask any further questions, and he's kind of glad, because he doesn't really want to rehash the whole thing.

Burt comes home while they're cleaning off the table and sits down to eat his own food. "You boys have homework?"

"Some," Finn says, and Kurt nods as well and sighs.

"All right." He pulls Puck into the living room and kisses him softly. "That's Dad's way of saying I should take you home in just a few minutes." He frowns.

"He's probably right," Puck admits, "but we don't have to like it."

"No." Kurt pulls Puck to him, lips pressing fiercely against Puck's, and Puck parts his lips under the steady cajoling of Kurt's tongue. There's something almost different about Kurt's kiss, that Puck can't put his finger on. It's nothing tentative, though, and Puck's definitely not complaining.

One of Kurt's hands is gripping the back of Puck's mohawk, the other sliding slowly down Puck's back, then coming to rest on the top of Puck's ass. Puck groans into Kurt's mouth as Kurt's hand slowly, gently squeezes.

"Kurt!"

Kurt pulls away and rests his head on Puck's shoulder. "Yes, Dad?"

"Can you stop by the shop and pick up the red binder on your way back?"

Kurt exhales and straightens, his mouth a thin line. "Sure thing, Dad!" He turns to Puck then. "We should go."

Puck nods and follows Kurt out of the living room and out through the garage, Kurt's hand clinging to his.

"Sorry about Dad," Kurt says with a sigh when they reach Puck's apartment building. "I don't know what's up."

"S'all right."

"No, it's not," Kurt says, frowning, "but thanks." He squeezes Puck's hand a final time. "Be good."

"I'm always good."


	17. Glocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curses, foiled again! In which Kurt is something of a naughty boy, too.

When Puck walks into physics on Friday morning, Kurt's already there, smirking at him.

"What's up?"

"Look." Kurt slides a paper across the table. "Math test."

"Yeah?" Puck looks down and then grins. "Awesome. See? Now it's my turn to gloat." Puck drops his bag on the floor and sits on the stool, and for a brief moment, he forgets where they are, and starts to lean forward, intent on kissing Kurt rather thoroughly.

Someone bumps into a stool nearby, loudly, and the jarring noise jolts Puck back into reality. "Shit," he mutters to himself, and Kurt looks a little shaken, too.

Kurt bites his lip for a second and then exhales, running his tongue along his lips. "Oops," he whispers.

"Yeah," Puck nods. As soon as everyone is in the classroom and the teacher starts talking, he slides his hand towards Kurt, under the table, and Kurt wraps his fingers in Puck's. Kurt doesn't let go until the teacher passes out the quiz near the end of the period.

The auditorium is close to Puck's English class, which means he and Rachel are the first two to arrive. "Are you performing today?"

"No, I'm going to wait until Monday," Puck says easily, but the truth is, he doesn't have a clue what he's going to do yet.

"I wonder who will perform today…" Rachel muses, trailing off. "Oh! I've got to help–I'll be back!" She springs to her feet and runs out of the auditorium. Puck shrugs. _Weird._

When she comes back, she's giggling with the rest of the girls, and Artie and Kurt are behind them, each carrying a cardboard box. Santana takes the box from Artie's lap and Kurt and she place them on the edge of the stage.

Puck looks at them, then at Kurt, who just smiles a little too innocently. _Even weirder._

By the time Mr. Schue arrives, it's clear that almost everyone in the club knows what's going on, but not Puck, Mike, Sam, Finn, or Mr. Schuester.

"Before we get started, Mr. Schuester, we have a little presentation to make." Rachel smiles broadly. "You four, come here," she says, pointing to the four who aren't in the know, and Puck rises to his feet to comply with the rest of them.

"We wanted something fun," Tina explains, "and funny, too, but also…"

"Supportive," Santana interjects.

"Right. So." Tina reaches in the box and pulls out a red t-shirt, tossing it to Mr. Schue. "Put it on so they can see it."

Schue pulls the t-shirt on over his usual shirt-vest-tie ensemble, removing a post-it note that reads "Mr. S."

The front has a drawing of a gun, with music notes firing out of it, and the words above and below it read **Glocks Do It Better**. Puck grins and then Schue turns around. There are four numbers on the back: 5, 6, 20, and 28.

"Oh, that is awesome," Finn chokes out, and Mike's nodding and grinning.

"Sweet," Puck approves.

"Who's idea was this?" Sam demands grinning, and the other eight just look at each other and shrug.

"Yours are slightly different," Quinn takes over explaining, and Kurt tosses a shirt at each of them. Puck holds his up and understands immediately–there's just a 20 on the back of his. Finn pulls his on over his polo, but Puck strips off the t-shirt he's wearing to pop the new one on, and Mike and Sam follow suit.

"Quinn, Britt, Artie, Kurt, and I have shirts like Schue's," Santana goes on, passing those out, "but your girlfriends have shirts with just your numbers."

The three specified grin and pull on their shirts, and everyone's smiling and laughing. Puck sees Kurt pull out his phone for a second, and then his own phone vibrates.

 _They were very sad for you that you didn't have a girl to wear your number. The rest of us assured them you would survive, yes? xx_

Puck grins and nods in Kurt's direction, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"These are great, guys," Finn gushes, and they all nod their agreement.

"They are," Schue agrees. "We should really get started now, though!"

"I'd like to go first, if I could," Artie volunteers, and Schue nods.

"Absolutely. Take it away, Artie!"

The rest of them scramble off the stage to watch Artie perform, and Puck drops into the seat beside Kurt. "Sneaky," he whispers.

Kurt smirks. "Yes, well. Be prepared for sympathy from Rachel, especially."

"Right." Puck turns most of his attention back to Artie's performance of "Harvest Moon," which he enjoys a lot more than Artie's song the week before. It's also a nice break from rapping.

When Schue asks for a volunteer, Kurt tenses a little, but Finn gets to his feet, explaining that it just says "stumbles" but he really likes the song, so is that okay? Schue of course assures him that it is, and Finn does a lovely rendition of "Awake My Soul."

Kurt doesn't even have a chance to volunteer before Tina is on her feet, ready to perform, and Puck can tell Kurt's a little exasperated. "This is called 'When Fall Comes to New England,' by a folk singer named Cheryl Wheeler," she explains, before launching into a song Puck would describe as poetic. Halfway through the song, Kurt leans over to whisper in Puck's ear. "Don't have to wonder where she's applying to college, do we?"

Puck grins and nods. No, probably not.

Kurt manages to get to his feet when Schue calls for one last volunteer for the day, but he doesn't even bother moving forward when he sees Brittany, Quinn, and Mike all get to their feet. Schue immediately waves the three of them forward, not even noticing Kurt, and Kurt slumps back into his seat with a loud sigh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt frowns and sighs again, then looks at Puck almost sadly.

Puck's not exactly sure how the three of them settled on The Raveonettes' "Last Dance" as a song that deals with falling or autumn either one, but it's a peppy, fun number, and Brittany and Quinn clearly enjoy the lyrics while Mike dances alongside them. Puck's not surprised when Schue mentions keeping the song and the band in general in mind for a competition number.

They only have time for one run through of the choreography with Mike, and Schue doesn't say a word, just sitting back and letting them go through the song twice before the bell rings.

"Great job," Schue finally speaks. "We'll meet in here again Monday and you can show me what you come up with tomorrow." He hands the auditorium key to Mike. "Now, let's go show the rest of the school these t-shirts!"

They don't even make it down the hall before the first comment. One of the juniors on the team spots them from behind and starts to ask about them when Finn turns around and they read the front. "Glocks… oh, glee jocks…" He laughs. "That's pretty funny."

That's the consensus from what Puck can tell, though by the end of lunch, he actually hears someone mutter that they wish _they_ had friends that would do something that cool. Puck grins. Yeah, it is pretty awesome.

Everyone's getting ready to leave, and Kurt slides beside him. "Movie?"

"Yeah," Puck nods. "As long as we're back by three, I guess."

" _Our Idiot Brother_ is pretty short and starts in 20 minutes."

"Awesome."

"What's awesome?"

Puck sighs but plasters on a slight smile. "Gonna go watch a movie before practice," he explains to Sam, knowing someone else will overhear.

"Oh, great idea," Mike picks it up, as if on cue. "What movie?"

" _Our Idiot Brother_ ," Kurt clarifies.

"Ooh, let's go," Tina says with a grin.

Puck hears Kurt exhale beside him, and personally, Puck wants to punch a wall, but he manages to muster up a "Sure," and they head to the parking lot.

Beiste lets them out of practice a little early, so everyone can go eat dinner, and Puck heads down the street, walking home and feeling frustrated. If he's lucky, Finn will be informed that he's giving Puck a ride back to the school before the game. When Puck gets home, neither Hannah nor his mom are home yet, but there's a note on the refrigerator from his mom that they'll be at the game that night. Well. That's nice, he guesses. He microwaves three burritos and pulls leftover salad out of the refrigerator to eat while they nuke, then takes them to his room and eats them in front of the computer.

He supposes he should look for a song about falling. He clicks around on the internet for awhile, not really sure what he's looking for, and finds a couple of possibilities before he realizes he should head out, since there's been no text or call about Finn picking him up.

He's just out the door and down the street a bit when Finn's truck rumbles to a stop beside him. "Get in, Puckerman," he says, rolling his eyes, and Puck rolls his eyes in return before doing so.

"Why didn't you wait on me?"

"Uh, dude. If you're going to pick someone up, you should probably tell them."

"Ohh. I figured Kurt did this afternoon."

"Mike and Tina crashed the party, so. No."

Finn wrinkles his nose. "Sorry, dude."

"Yeah, well."

Finn pulls into the lot and they head into the locker room, where Beiste gives an impassioned speech to pep them up. Puck gets dressed in his full uniform and can feel the adrenaline start pumping. They run out onto the field to cheers, and as they head to the bench, Finn nudges him in the ribs, grinning. "Look, dude." He points into the stands.

Puck has to grin. Artie, Kurt, Mercedes, Rachel, and Tina are squeezed together on the bleachers, wearing their red t-shirts and holding up signs with similar slogans. Then Sam guffaws beside him. "Look at Santana, Brittany, and Quinn."

The three Cheerios look exactly like the others, except for they each have a gun with music notes painted on their cheeks. "We've got our own cheering section and our own Cheerios," Mike says with a nod. "Excellent."

Puck's first quarter feels slow, but he still manages to get 30 yards, and their kicker manages to score a field goal. In the second quarter, though, he catches one of Finn's passes and then runs it the rest of the way in, scoring a touchdown and putting them up by three once the extra point is kicked.

Puck likes football because he likes to run. He also likes making the score, and at halfback, he gets to do both of those. He also manages to lose himself in the physical exertion and not think. For years, _not thinking_ has been a goal of his.

Football isn't quite as satisfying as it always was before. He still likes running, and he still likes scoring the points, but the ability to not think seems far less important than it once did.

Beiste spends a third of halftime praising them and the rest of it telling them everything they need to do better.

Third quarter passes without anyone scoring, and when Beiste calls a timeout at the beginning of the fourth quarter, she singles Puck out. "Puckerman, if Hudson gets the ball to you, you've got to get it to the endzone, all right? Run, catch, whatever it takes." Puck nods and she claps them all on the shoulder. "Let's go!"

Puck gets his chance two possessions later, when Finn tosses the ball short. Puck snags it and weaves down the field, barely escaping a pair of defenders. He crosses into the endzone just as a third opponent brings him down, but he knows he's made the touchdown, and springs back up to celebrate.

No other scoring happens for either side for the rest of the game, and the Titans win it, 17-10. Beiste is cautiously pleased in the locker room afterwards, informing them that next week, she expects them to hold the other team to zero points. Thankful that's the job of defense and not him, Puck heads for the shower.

"Hey, you guys want to come get ice cream with us," Finn asks from the next stall. "I saw Hannah, she'd probably like that."

"Yeah, I guess," Puck replies, soaping up.

"Cool."

The ice cream group ends up being all of the Hudmels, Puck, his mom and Hannah, and Rachel, too. Finn ends up driving Rachel, and the rest of them ride with Kurt. "No, this won't be awkward at all," Puck mutters under his breath as the others climb in, and Kurt snorts.

Rachel talks a mile a minute about all of Finn's "amazing" plays, noting once or twice that Puck did in fact make the actual touchdowns. "We all felt bad that you don't have a girl right now," Rachel says suddenly. "We did get another #20 shirt, just in case."

Rachel, Kurt, Finn, and Puck are all wearing their shirts, and a few guys approach them, giving Finn and Puck high fives and fist bumps. A few of the older ones look askance at Kurt, and Puck takes a minute to look him over while he eats his cone. He's wearing the red t-shirt, yes, with a white scarf, tight white slacks, and red boots that look like they're the same as his white ones, just in red. The red doesn't quite match, but Puck's impressed with the show of team spirit and fashion in one outfit.

Then again, that's probably not common, but he wishes people would stop staring at Kurt. Kurt looks up, seeming to sense Puck's eyes on him, and smiles brilliantly. Puck grins back before having to turn his attention to Hannah's questions about why he doesn't always get to run with the ball.

 

Hannah shakes Puck awake a lot earlier than he had hoped on Saturday morning. "Mom says we're going to temple together this morning," she spits out before he can start yelling. "You're supposed to get up and go pick us up bagels from Panera or Pat's, since you showered after the game last night.

Puck groans and yawns. "Okay, okay. I'm up." He pulls on a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt, jamming his feet into a pair of flip-flops. "Tell Mom I'll be back."

Puck's still yawning when he returns, but at least he now is drinking coffee. "Mom, you are cruel," he says, depositing the bagels on the table.

"What are you doing this afternoon, Noah?"

"Glee practice," Puck grunts. "Choreography. I don't know how long it will take. And no, I'm not going to be home for dinner."

Rina sighs. "All right. Tomorrow night?"

Puck nods and just raises an eyebrow before she nods. "Good," Puck says, tossing his empty coffee cup in the trash. "I'll go get dressed."

Rachel sits herself and her dads next to Puck at temple, which means Rachel and one of her dads end up talking at the rest of them for twenty minutes after the service is over. By the time Puck heads for glee rehearsal, he's in a thoroughly grumpy mood, which is only slightly ameliorated by his ride.

"Hey," he grunts, mouth firmly set in a pout.

"Rough morning?"

"Mom woke me up to go get bagels, then we all had to go to temple, and Rachel and her dads sat with us."

Kurt winces. "I'm sorry." He squeezes Puck's hand.

"Yeah." Puck closes his eyes. "We have to go to rehearsal?"

"We do, for good or for ill," Kurt confirms.

"Damn."

"I know." Kurt's voice is full of mirthful regret.

Puck cracks his eyes open. "You're in a surprisingly good mood."

Kurt flushes slightly. "Well, I." He shrugs. "I guess I just am."

"Okay." Puck shrugs, too. "That's cool. At least one of us is," he flashes a grin.

"That's the spirit."

Everyone straggles in to the auditorium in ones and twos, generally taking up way more space on the stage that would seem possible for the twelve of them to do, sprawling across the stage. Puck lies down and closes his eyes, waiting for everyone to arrive, and jumps a minute later when he feels Kurt's head on his stomach. "Huh?"

"You're a nice pillow," Kurt announces, and no one seems to think anything's odd about that, either.

Mike ends up working them hard for three hours. At the end he holds up a box and has them all throw their phones or iPods into it, and picks one at random, telling everyone to dance to whatever comes up on shuffle for 15 minutes with their opposite-sex partner. "We'll do same-sex partners next time. We just need to get really comfortable with each other."

So Puck probably shouldn't be surprised that someone suggests they all go to dinner together. He is surprised, though, and more than a little disappointed, especially since Kurt's been eyeing him kinda hungrily most of the afternoon. Finn suggests Golden Corral, and everyone's hungry enough that they agree, setting off in three stuffed vehicles.

Puck purposely sits himself between Mike and Sam, Finn and Sam buffering him from Kurt, because he's feeling twitchy and he'd probably do something stupid like put his hand on Kurt's thigh while everyone's looking.

Not that touching Kurt is stupid, because it's not, and Puck's pretty sure he's passed the point of thinking clearly about all of it.

So he tries not to pay attention when Kurt suddenly clasps his phone, as if it's ringing silently, and says "I should take this."

Thirty seconds later, though, his own phone shakes.

 _Say it's your mom. Text back 'at least an hour.' Then count to 30 and go to the bathroom xx_

Puck's eyes narrow, but he does as instructed, then seemingly rejoins the conversation, internally counting. He waits until 40 before standing up and muttering something about the bathroom.

There's a sign in front of the bathroom that says it's closed for cleaning, but Puck's never been one for rules, so he pushes the door open and walks in.

Kurt darts behind him and locks the door. "Is the sign still there?"

"Yeah, it says it's closed."

"Good." Kurt pulls him towards the single stall and locks that door, too.

"Wha–?"

"Just in case." Then Puck can't say anything, because Kurt's pressing him against the wall, kissing him like it's been days since they properly kissed. Which, Puck's mind unhelpfully reminds him, it's been over a day.

"Kurt…" he manages to force out as Kurt pulls away, tongue and teeth scraping at Puck's jaw.

"I know, it's unsanitary and probably there are all kinds of nasty chemicals, but…"

That's when Puck realizes that Kurt's been simultaneously working on Puck's jeans, unfastening them and pushing them, along with his underwear, down. "Fuck!" Puck can't help his exclamation when Kurt's mouth engulfs him.

"Hmmm." Kurt hums and nods a little, bobbing his head, and Puck can feel Kurt's tongue wrapping around him. Puck deliberately grabs for the bars on the wall; if this is going to work, if they're going to get away with this, Kurt's got to look like he really was on the phone the entire time. Not having his hair ruffled possessively by the sex-starved guy he's dating.

Kurt works fast, twisting and sucking, humming occasionally, and Puck bites down on his wrist as he comes to avoid crying out. Kurt stands up with a smug smile on his face and kisses Puck quickly.

"Set the timer on your phone for five minutes. Stay in here. I'll move the sign when I leave."

With that, Kurt's slipped out the door, and Puck wonders absently when he learned to be so methodical in his deviousness.

By the time Puck makes his way back to the table, Kurt's engrossed in a conversation with Mercedes and Brittany, and his eyes don't even flicker in Puck's direction.

"Dude, you were gone forever."

"Yeah, I tried to use the bathroom and it said it was closed. Cleaning."

Puck raises his eyebrows and bites his lip, then says the first thing that comes to mind. "Well, there's cleaning, and there's cleaning."

Puck knows the moment Finn puts it together, because he blurts out "DUDE!" and starts choking, and that's all it takes for Mike and Sam to smirk knowingly and pat Puck on the back. In the end, though, Puck can't quite help himself, and smirks, though he doesn't quite meet Finn's eyes.

Because he'd probably start laughing hysterically, or look at Kurt right afterwards, or something. No matter how tempted he is to say "Not my idea," he does manage to keep his mouth shut.

Something Kurt obviously didn't manage, his mind adds, pleased.

Finn and Sam decide to have a dessert eating competition, and for some reason, it catches on, all of the guys plus Santana and Mercedes competing, Rachel begging out because there are no vegan options, Tina claiming to be stuffed, and Quinn muttering about her Cheerios uniform and "enough stretch marks already."

The last makes Puck pissed enough that he eats even faster, though luckily he's still feeling calmer than he was before he got to the restaurant. Slowly, everyone stops eating, until it's down to Puck and Finn, and then Puck thinks it's practically a matter of honor to beat his oldest friend.

Mike and Sam keep them supplied with new bowls of banana pudding and slices of chocolate cake, and Puck can't suppress a cry of triumph when Finn reluctantly pushes his last slice away, half-eaten, just as Puck plucks the last bite of his into his mouth. He throws his arms in the air, and everyone claps, laughing.

Kurt catches his eye and smirks a little in the midst of his laughter, and Puck can't resist running his tongue along his lips for a moment before turning his head.

"That was impressive," Kurt says lightly as everyone climbs into their respective vehicles, and Puck smirks.

"What can I say? I can fit a lot into my mouth."

Kurt flushes a little and turns away, laughing. "Stop it."

They both fall silent as the other doors open, and the others clamber in.

By the time Kurt's returned to the school, Puck can feel his eyes drooping, no doubt aided by all the food his body's attempting to digest. Not to mention their bathroom activities. He vaguely registers people climbing out of the car and saying good night, but he's nearly asleep when he hears Kurt whisper.

"Tired, baby?"

"Mmm." Puck nods and cracks his eyes open. "Sorry."

"Why sorry?" Kurt smiles a little. "It's not surprising." Kurt takes Puck's hand and squeezes it. "You want me to come over after you're off work tomorrow?"

Puck nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." He smiles. "Thanks." He can't articulate what he means, but Kurt seems to understand and nods.

"It's not a problem."

Puck squeezes Kurt's hand. "You should probably take me home."

"Yes." Kurt sighs and restarts the car.

 

Kurt shows up just a little after Puck gets home from work the next afternoon, bag slung over one shoulder. Rina makes it to the door before Puck, though. "Hello, Kurt, it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you, too, Ms. Puckerman."

"I've told you, call me Rina."

"We'll just see which of us caves in first," Kurt smiles.

"Noah's in the living room," Rina adds. "I assume you boys are going to study."

"It worked all right last week, Mom," Puck interjects, walking over to the door. "You saw my history grade."

"That's true," Rina smiles brightly. "I'll just be in the kitchen, boys."

Puck rolls his eyes and pulls Kurt to his side, walking them over to the couch. "Did your dad and my mom talk too much the other day?"

"I think so," Kurt sighs, dropping onto the couch, then sliding one leg over Puck's. "And then they must've enlisted Tina, Mike, and the rest of the club, too."

Puck groans and rests his head on the back of the couch. "Tell me about it. At least we have a couple of hours tomorrow afternoon, right?" he adds, his voice lower.

"Yes," Kurt says, pinking a little in a way that intrigues Puck, but he doesn't ask as his mom clatters a few pots in the kitchen.

"Good. No talking about it to anyone else, either," Puck adds with a slight grin.

"Seriously!"

They spend the rest of the afternoon working on their respective assignments, then studying for the physics test scheduled for Thursday.

"I don't wanna," Kurt whines, frowning at the physics textbook, and Puck can't help chuckling.

"Yeah, I know. I don't really want to either. But, c'mon, you've done fine on the quizzes so far."

"That's true," Kurt sighs. "That doesn't mean I have to like it, though, does it?"

"Nah," Puck agrees. "C'mere." His mom went down the hall a few minutes before, and he takes the opportunity to pull Kurt into a kiss. "I'm sure there's a cheesy physics joke in this."

"Something about magnetism, probably," Kurt agrees, then initiates another kiss over Puck's laugh.

Puck loses himself in the feel of Kurt's mouth, slowly pushing him onto his back and leaning over him. Puck's pretty sure it's a bad idea, but Kurt's not stopping him. In fact, Kurt's got his arms around Puck's neck and is arching his body up into Puck's, so Puck doesn't stop kissing him, running one hand down Kurt's side.

Kurt's fingers are tugging at the short hair of Puck's mohawk, as if trying to draw him closer, and his hips buck up into Puck's, their erections rubbing together briefly. It's not enough for Puck, and he angles his pelvis, grinding down, eliciting a moan from Kurt that Puck swallows into his own mouth.

Puck's starting to consider how to get Kurt's shirt off without letting him up when he dimly hears music from his sister's room, and he sits up, swearing under his breath.

"Shit," Kurt echoes him, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Puck…"

Puck turns to look at Kurt and locks their gazes. Kurt's lips are parted, and he's breathing a little heavily. "Yeah. Sorry."

"No. Noo," Kurt shakes his head and sits all the way up. "Don't be sorry," he whispers into Puck's ear. "We just… your sister."

"Not my mom?" Puck asks, a little surprised.

Kurt just shrugs. "Your sister's only eight."

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay." Puck smiles a little, running his eyes over Kurt again. "You're beautiful."

Kurt dimples and kisses his cheek. "You're amazing."

Dinner is a casserole, ready just a bit later, and then Rina announces that Hannah can't watch a movie this week, because she has a book report due the next day. Puck represses the urge to tell her about pink monkey notes, figuring that maybe she should do the work for a few more years. Maybe. When she's in high school, though, he'll definitely tell her. Before freshman year, even.

"I actually brought a movie with me, if you're interested," Kurt offers.

"Yeah?"

"It's by the same director as the '96 remake of _Romeo & Juliet_ and also _Moulin Rouge_ ; one of his earlier films." Kurt pulls it out of his bag and hands it to Puck. " _Strictly Ballroom_. Kind of ridiculous, but fun."

"Okay." Puck shrugs and sticks the movie into the DVD player. Kurt's right–it's kind of ridiculous, but also kind of fun, and the kind of lifts they're doing look more like something he and Kurt can do without looking awkward, too.

It's just past eight when the movie ends, and Puck walks Kurt down the stairs. "You ready to perform tomorrow?" Kurt asks casually.

"Yeah, I gotta pick between two songs, but." Puck shrugs. "You?"

"Mmm-hmm." Kurt nods. "It should go well. I hope." He smiles. "I should go, I guess."

Puck opens the door for him and leans against the car. "Be good."

Kurt swings the door closed and rolls the window down. "I'm always good."

Puck smiles and steps back onto the sidewalk, waiting until Kurt's taillights have disappeared around the corner before stepping back inside.


End file.
